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SPENSER'S 
THE FAERIE QUEENE 



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OTHERS TO FOLLOW. 




EDMOND SPENSER 



SPENSER'S 
THE FAERIE QUEENE 



BQoif^j; 



EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
BY 

GEORGE ARMSTRONG WAUCHOPE, M.A., Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE 



Velut inter ignes luna minores 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
1903 

All rights reserved 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 

Two Copies Recttivot ^ 

SEP 23 190*^ I 

s Copyrighl Entry ^ 

CLA^S A. XXc. No I 

COPY e. I 






Copyright, 1903, 
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up, electrotyped, and published September, 1903. 



J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction : 

I. The Age which produced the Faerie Queene 
11. . The Author of the Faerie Queene . 

III. Study of the Faerie Queene : 

1. A Romantic Epic . 

2. Influence of the New Learning 

3. Interpretation of the Allegory 

4. The Spenserian Stanza . 

5. Versification .... 

6. Diction and Style . 

IV. Chronological Table of Events 



Vll 
X 

xvii 
xix 

XX 

xxiii 
xxiv 

xxiv 
xxvii 



Tpie Faerie Queene. Book I : 
Letter to Sir Walter Raleigh . 
Sonnet to Sir Walter Raleigh . 
Dedication to Queen Elizabeth 
Canto I 



Canto II 
Canto III 
Canto IV 
Canto V 



3 
8 
9 
11 
32 
48 
63 
81 



vi 


CONTENTS 


Canto VI 




Canto VII 




Canto VIII 




Canto IX . 




Canto X . 




Canto XI . 




Canto XII 




Notes 




Glossary 





PAGE 

99 

116 
134 
151 
170 
193 
212 

227 
281 



INTRODUCTION 

I. THE AGE WHICH PRODUCED THE FAERIE 
qUEENE 

The study of the Faerie Qiieene should be preceded by a 
review of the great age in which it was written. An intimate 
relation exists between the history of the English nation and 
the works of English authors. This close connection between 
purely external events and literary masterpieces is especially 
marked in a study of the Elizabethan Age. To understand 
the marvelous outburst of song, the incomparable drama, and 
the stately prose of this period, one nuist enter deeply into the 
political, social, and religious life of the times. 

The Faerie Qaeene was the jn-oduct of certain definite condi- 
tions which existed in England toward the close of the sixteenth 
century. The first of these national conditions was the move- 
ment known as the revival of chivalry ; the second was the 
sj^irit of nationality ios^tered by the English Reformation; and 
the third was that phase of the English Renaissance commonly 
called the revival of learning. 

The closing decade of Queen Elizabeth's reign was marked 
by a strong reaction toward romanticism. The feudal system 
with its many imperfections had become a memory, and had 
been idealized by the people. The nation felt pride in its new 
aristocracy, sprung largely from the middle class, and based 
rather on worth than ancestry. The bitterness of the Wars of 
the Roses was forgotten, and was succeeded by an era of recon- 
ciliation and good feeling. England was united in a heroic 



VIU INTRODUCTION 

queen whom all sects, ranks, and parties idolized. The whole 
country exulting in its new sense of freedom and power became a 
feiryland of youth, springtime, and romantic achievement. 

Wise and gallant courtiers, like Sidney, Leicester, and Raleigh, 
gathered about the queen, and formed a new chivalry devoted 
to deeds of adventure and exploits of mind in her honor. The 
spirit of tlie old sea-kings lived again in Drake and his bold 
buccaneers, who swept the proud Spaniards from the seas. 
With the defeat of the Invincible Armada, the greatest naval 
expedition of modern times, the fear of Spanish and Catholic 
domination rolled away. The whole land was saturated with 
an unexpressed poetry, and the imagination of young and old 
was so fired with patriotism and noble endeavor that nothing 
seemed impossible. Add to this intense delight in life, with 
all its mystery, beauty, and power, the keen zest for learning 
which filled the air that men breathed, and it is easy to under- 
stand that the time was ripe for a new and brilliant epoch in 
literature. First among the poetic geniuses of the Elizabethan 
period came Edmund Spenser with his Faerie Queene, the alle- 
gory of an ideal chivalry. 

This poem is one of the fruits of that intellectual awakening . 
which first fertilized Italian thought in the twelfth century, and, 
slowly spreading over Europe, made its way into England in 
the fifteenth century. The mighty impulse of this New Learn- 
ing culminated during the reign of the Virgin Queen in a pro- 
found quickening of the national consciousness, and in arousing 
an intense curiosity to know and to imitate the rich treasures 
of the classics and romance. Its first phase was the classical 
revival. The tyrannous authority of ecclesiasticism had long 
since been broken ; a general reaction from Christian asceticism 
had set in ; and by the side of the ceremonies of the church 
had been introduced a semi-pagan religion of art — the worsliip 
of moral and sensuous beauty. Illiteracy was no longer the 
style at court. Elizabeth herself set the example in the study 



THE AGE IX 

of Greek. Books and manuscripts were eagerly sought after. 
Scholars became conversant with Homer, Plato, Aristotle, and 
the great tragic poets Sophocles, Euripides, and ^schylus ; 
and translations for the many of Vergil, Ovid, Plautus, Terence, 
and Seneca poured forth from the printing-presses of London. 
The English mind was strongly tempered by the idealistic 
philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, and the influence of Latin 
tragedy and comedy was strongly felt by the early English 
drama. 

Along with this classical culture came a higher appreciation 
of the beauty of medicevalism. The romantic tendency of the 
age fostered the study of the great epics of chivalry, Ariosto's 
Orlando Furioso and Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered, and of the 
cycles of French romance. From the Italian poets especially 
Spenser borrowed freely. Ariosto's fresh naturalness and 
magic machinery influenced him most strongly, but he was 
indebted to the semi-classical Tasso for whole scenes. On the 
whole, therefore, Spenser's literary aflinities were more with the 
Gothic than the classical. 

<^penser was also the spokesman of his time on religious ques- 
tions. The violent controversies of the Reformation period were 
over. Having turned from the beliefs of ages with passionate 
rejection, the English people had achieved religious freedom, and 
were strongly rooted in Protestantism, which took on a distinctly 
national aspect. That Calvinism' was at that time the popular; 
and aristocratic form of Protestantism is evident from references 
in the Faerie Queene.^ 

Spenser lived in the afterglow of the great age of chivalry. 
The passing glories of knighthood in its flower impressed his 
imagination like a gorgeous dream, and he was thus inspired to 
catch and crystallize into permanent art its romantic spirit and 
heroic deeds. Into the framework of his romance of chivalry 
he inserted a veiled picture of the stniggles and sufterings of 
his own people in Ireland. The Faerie Queene might almost be 



X INTRODUCTION 

called the epic of the English conquest of Ireland. The poet 
himself and many of his friends were in that unhappy island as 
representatives of the queen's government, trying to pacify the 
natives, and establish law and order out of discontent and 
anarchy. Spenser's poem was written for the most part amidst 
all these scenes of misery and disorder, and the courage, justice, 
and energy shown by his countrymen were aptly portrayed 
under the allegory of a mighty spiritual warfare of the knights 
of old against the power of evil. 

Spenser's essay on A View of the Present State of Ireland 
shows that, far from shutting himself up in a fool's paradise of 
fancy, he was fully awake to the social and political condition 
of that turbulent island, and that it furnished him with con- 
crete examples of those vices and virtues, bold encounters and 
hair-breadth escapes, strange wanderings and deeds of violence, 
with which he has crowded the allegory of the Faerie Queene. 

II. THE AUTHOR OF THE FAERIE QUEENE 

Edmund Spenser was born in London near the Tower in 
the year 1552. His parents were poor, though they were 
probably connected with the Lancashire branch of the old fam- 
ily of Le Despensers, " an house of ancient fame," from which 
the Northampton Spencers were also descended. The poet's 
familiarity with the rural life and dialect of the north country 
supports the theory that as a boy he spent some time in Lanca- 
shire. Beyond two or three focts, nothing is known with cer- 
tainty of his early years. He himself tells us that his mother's 
name was Elizabeth, and that London was his " most kindly 
nurse." His name is mentioned as one of six poor pupils of the 
Merchant Taylors' School, who received assistance from a gen- 
erous country squire. 

At the age of seventeen. Master Edmund became a student 
in Pembroke Hall, one of the colleges of the great University of 



THE AUTHOR XI 

Cambridge. His position was that of a sizar, or paid scholar, 
who was exempt from the payment of tuition fees and 
earned his way by serving in the dining hall or performing 
other menial duties. His poverty, however, did not prevent 
him from forming many helpful friendships with his fellow- 
students. Among his most valued friends he numbered 
Launcelot Andrews, afterward Bishop of Winchester, Edward 
Kirke, a young man of Spenser's own age, who soon after edited 
his friend's first important poem, the She2:)heards Calender, with 
elaborate notes, and most important of all, the famous classical 
scholar, a fellow of Pembroke, Gabriel Harvey, who was a few 
years older than Spenser, and was later immortalized as the 
Hobbinoll of the Faerie Queen e. It was by Harvey that the 
poet was introduced to Sir Philip Sidney, the most accomplished 
gentleman in England, and a favorite of Queen Elizabeth. 

Spenser's residence in Cambridge extended over seven years, 
during which he received the usual degrees of bachelor and 
master of arts. He became one of the most learned of English 
poets, and we may infer that while at this seat of learning he 
laid the foundations for his wide scholaiship in the diligent 
study of the Greek and Latin classics, the philosophy of Plato 
and Aristotle, the pastoral poetry of Theocritus and Vergil, and the 
great mediaeval epics of Italian literature. On account of some mis- 
understanding with the master and tutors of his college, Spenser 
failed to receive the appointment to a fellowship, and left the 
University in 1576, at the age of twenty-four. His failure to 
attain the highest scholastic recognition was due, it is supposed, 
to his being involved in some of the dangerous controversies 
which were ripe in Cambridge at that time " with daily spawn- 
ing of new opinions and heresies in divinity, in philosophy, in 
humanity, and in manners," 

On leaving the University, Spenser resided for about a year 
with relatives in Lancashire, where he found employment. 
During this time he had an unrequited love affair with an 



Xll INTROD UCTION 

unknown beauty whom he celebrated in the Slieplieards Cal- 
ender under the name of Rosalind, " the widow's daughter of 
the glen." A rival, Menalchas, was more successful in finding 
favor with his fair neighbor. Although he had before this 
turned his attention to poetry by translating the sonnets of 
Petrarch and Du Bellay (published in 1569), it was while here 
in the North country that he first showed his high poetic gifts 
in original composition. 

After a visit to Sir Philip Sidney at Penshurst, Spenser went 
down to London with his friend in 1578, and was presented to 
Sidney's great uncle, the Earl of Leicester. He thus at once 
had an opportunity for advancement through the influence of 
powerful patrons, a necessity with poor young authors in that 
age. An immediate result of his acquaintance with Sidney, 
with whom he was now on relations of intimate friendship, was 
an introduction into the best society of the metropolis. This 
period of association with many of the most distinguished and 
cultivated men in England, together with the succession of 
brilliant pageants, masks, and processions, which he witnessed 
at court and at Lord Leicester's mansion, must have done much 
to refine his tastes and broaden his outlook on the world. 

In personal appearance Spenser was a fine type of a sixteenth 
century gentleman. The grace and dignity of his bearing was 
enhanced by a face of tender and thoughtful expression in which 
warmth of feeling was subdued by the informing spirit of refine- 
ment, truthfulness, simplicity, and nobility. He possessed a 
fine dome-like forehead, curling hair, broAvn eyes, full sensuous 
lips, and a nose that was straight and strongly moulded. His 
long spare face was adorned with a full mustache and a closely 
cropped Van Dyke beard. 

The Shejyheards Calender was published in the winter of 
1579 with a grateful and complimentary dedication to Sidney. 
It is an academic exercise consisting of a series of twelve pasto- 
ral poems in imitation of the eclogues of Vergil and Theocritus. 



THE AUTHOR XUl 

The poem is cast in the form of dialogues between shepherds, 
who converse on such subjects as love, religion, and old age. 
In three eclogues the poet attacks with Puritan zeal the pomp 
and sloth of the worldly clergy, and one is devoted to the 
courtly praise of the queen. It was at once recognized as the 
most notable poem that had appeared since the death of 
Chaucer, and placed Spenser immediately at the head of living 
English poets. 

In 1580 Spenser went over to Ireland as private secretary 
to Lord G-rey of Wilton, the Artegall of the Legend of Justice 
in the Faerie Queene. After the recall of his patron he re- 
mained in that turbulent island in various civil positions for 
the rest of his life, with the exception of two or three visits 
and a last sad flight to England. For seven years he was 
clerk of the Court of Chancery in Dublin, and then was ap- 
pointed clerk to the Council of Munster. In 1586 he was 
gi'anted the forfeited estate of the Earl of Desmond in Cork 
County, and two years later took up his residence in Kilcolman 
Castle, which was beautifully situated on a lake with a distant 
view of mountains. In the disturbed political condition of the 
country, life here seemed a sort of exile to the poet, but its 
very loneliness and danger gave the stimulus needed for the 
development of his peculiar genius. 

"Here," says Mr. Stopford Brooke, "at the foot of the 
Galtees, and bordered to the north by the wild country, the 
scenery of which is frequently painted in the Faerie Queene 
and in whose woods and savage places such adventures con- 
stantly took place in the service of Elizabeth as are recorded in 
the Faerie Queejie, the first three books of that great poem 
were finished." Spenser had spe:it the first three years of his 
residence at Kilcolman at work on this masterpiece, wliich had 
been begun in England, under the encouragement of Sidney, 
probably before 1580. The knightly Sidney died heroically at 
the battle of Zutphen, in 1586, and Spenser voiced the lament 



XIV INTRODUCTION 

of all England in the beautiful pastoral elegy Astro^^hel which 
he composed in memory of " the most noble and valorous 
knight." 

Soon after coming to Ireland, Spenser made the acquaintance 
of Sir Walter Raleigh, which erelong ripened into intimate 
friendship. A memorable visit from Raleigh, who was now a 
neighbor of the poet's, having also received a part of the for- 
feited Desmond estate, led to the publication of the Faerie 
Queene. Sitting under the shade " of the green alders of the 
Mulla's shore," Spenser read to his guest the first books of his 
poem. So pleased was Raleigh that he persuaded the poet to 
accompany him to London, and there lay his poem at the feet 
of the great queen, whose praises he had so gloriously sung. 
The trip was made, Spenser was presented to Elizabeth, and 
read to her Majesty the three Legends of Holiness, Temperance, 
and Chastity. She was delighted with the fragmentary epic 
in which she heard herself delicately complimented in turn as 
Gloriana, Belphoebe, and Britomart, conferred upon the poet a 
pension of .£50 yearly, and permitted the Faerie Queene to be 
published with a dedication to herself. Launched under such 
auspices, it is no wonder that the poem was received by the 
court and all England with unprecedented applause. 

Tlie next year while still in London, Spenser collected his 
early poems and issued them under the title of Complaints. 
In this volume were the Ruins of Time and the Tears of the 
Muses, two poems on the indifference shown to literature 
before 1580, and the remarkable Mother Huhherds Tale, a 
bitter satire on the army, the court, the church, and politics. 
His Daphnaida was also published about the same time. On 
his return to Ireland he gave a charming picture of life at Kil- 
colraan Castle, with an account of his visit to the court, in Colin 
Cloufs Come Home Again. The story of the long and des- 
perate courtship of his second love, Elizabeth, whom he wedded 
in 1594, is told in the Amoretti, a sonnet sequence full of pas- 



THE AUTHOR xy 

sion and tenderness. His rapturous wedding ode, the Ex)i- 
thakmiion, which is, by general consent, the most glorious 
bridal song in our language, and the most perfect of all his 
poems in its freshness, purity, and passion, was also published 
in 1595. The next year Spenser was back in London and pub- 
lished the Prothalamion, a lovely ode on the marriage of Lord 
Worcester's daughters, and his four Hymns on Love and Beauty, 
Heavenly Love, and Heavenly Beauty. The first two Hymns 
are early poems, and the two latter maturer work embodying 
Petrarch's philosophy, which teaches that earthly love is a lad- 
der that leads men to the love of God. In this year, 1596, also 
appeared the last three books of the Faerie Qneene, contain- 
ing the Legends of Friendship, Justice, and Courtesy. 

At the height of his fame, happiness, and prosperity, Spenser 
returned for the last time to Ireland in 1597, and was recom- 
mended by the queen for the office of Sheriff of Cork. Sur- 
rounded by his beloved wife and children, his domestic life was 
serene and happy, but in gloomy contrast his public life was 
stormy and full of anxiety and danger. He was the acknowl- 
edged prince of living poets, and was planning the completion 
of his mighty epic of the private virtues in twelve books, to be 
followed by twelve more on the civic virtues. The native Irish 
had steadily withstood his claim to the estate, and continually 
harassed him with lawsuits. They detested their foreign 
oppressors and awaited a favorable opportunity to rise. Dis- 
cord and riot increased on all sides. The ever growing mur- 
murs of discontent gave place to cries for vengeance and 
unrepressed acts of hostility. Finally, in the fall of 1598, there 
occurred a fearful uprising known as Tyrone's Rebellion, in 
which the outraged peasants fiercely attacked the castle, plun- 
dering and burning. Spenser and his family barely escaped 
with their lives. According to one old tradition, an infant 
child was left behhid in the hurried flight and perished in the 
flames; but this has been shown to be but one of the wild 



XVI V INTRODUCTION 

rumors repeated to exaggerate the horror of the uprising. 
Long after Spenser's death, it )vas also rumored that the last 
six books of the Faerie Queene had been lost in the flight; 
but the story is now utterly discredited. 

Spenser once more arrived in London, but he was now in 
dire distress and prostrated by the hardships which he had suf- 
fered. There on January 16, 1599, at a tavern in King Street, 
Westminster, the great poet died broken-hearted and in poverty. 
Drummond of Hawthornden states that Ben Jonson told him 
that Spenser "died for lack of bread jn King Street, and re- 
fused '20 pieces sent to him by my Lord of Essex, and said He 
was sorrie he had no time to spend them." The story is prob- 
ably a bit of exaggerated gossip. He was buried close to the 
tomb of Chaucer in the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey, 
his fellow-poets bearing the pall, and the Earl of Essex defray- 
ing the expenses of the funeral. Referring to the death of 
Spenser's great contemporary, Basse wrote : — 

" Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh 
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont, lie 
A little nearer Spenser, to make room 
For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb." 

" Thus," says Mr. Stopford Brooke, appropriately, " London, 
'his most kindly nurse,' takes care also of his dust, and Eng- 
land keeps him in her love." 

Spenser's influence on English poetry can hardly be over- 
estimated. Keats called him " the poets' poet," a title which 
has been universally approved. " He is the poet of all others," 
says Mr. Saintsbury, " for those who seek in poetry only poet- 
ical qualities." His work has appealed most strongly to those 
who have been poets themselves, for with him the poetical 
attraction is supreme. Many of the greatest poets have de- 
lighted to call him master, and have shown him the same loving 
reverence which he gave to Chaucer. Minor poets like Sidney, 



THE FAERIE QUEENE ^ XVil 

Drayton, and Daniel paid tribute to his inspiration ; Milton 
was deeply indebted to him, especially in Lycidas ; and many 
of the pensive poets of the seventeenth century show traces 
of his influence. " Spenser delighted Shakespeare," says Mr. 
Church ; "he was the poetical master of Cowley, and then of 
Milton, and in a sense of Dry den, and even Pope." Giles and 
Plihieas Fletcher, William Browne, Sir William Alexander, 
Shenstone, Collins, Cowley, Gray, and James Thomson were 
all direct followers of Spenser. His influence upon the poets 
of the romantic revival of the nineteenth century is even more 
marked. " Spenser begot Keats," says Mr. Saintsbury, " and 
Keats begot Tennyson, and Tennyson begot all the rest." 
Among this notable company of disciples should be mentioned 
especially Eossetti, Morris, and Swinburne, If we include 
within the sphere of Spenser's influence also , those who have 
made use of the stanza which he inventecr, we must add the 
names of Burns, Shelley, Byron, Beattie, Campbell, Scott, and 
Wordsworth. When we consider the large number of poets in 
whom Spenser awakened the poetic gift, or those to whose 
powers he gave direction, we may safely pronounce him the 
most seminal poet in the language. 

III. STUDY OF THE FAERIE QUEENE 

1. A Romantic Epic. — The Faerie Queene is the most 
perfect type which we have in English of the purely romantic 
poem. Four elements enter into its composition : "it is pas- 
toral by association, chivalrous by temper, ethical by tendency, 
and allegorical by treatment " (Benton). Its subject was taken 
from the old cycle of Arthurian legends, which were brightened 
with the terrorless magic of Ariosto and Tasso. The scene of 
the adventures is laid in the enchanted forests and castles of the 
far away and unreal fairyland of mediaeval chivalry, and the 
incidents themselves are either highly improbable or frankly 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

impossible. The language is frequently archaic and designedly 
unfamiliar. Much of the machinery and properties used in 
carrying on the story, such as speaking myrtles, magic mirrors, 
swords, rings, impenetrable armor, and healing fountains, is 
supernatural. All the characters — the knights, ladies, dwarfs, 
magicians, dragons, nymphs, satyrs, and giants — are the 
conventional figures of pastoral romance. , 

The framework of the plot of the Faerie Queene is vast and 
loosely put together. There are six main stories, or legends, and 
each contains several digressions and involved episodes. The 
plan of the entire work, which the author only half completed, is 
outlined in his letter to Sir Walter Raleigh. This letter serves 
as an admirable introduction to the poem, and should be read 
attentively by the student. Gloriana, the Queen of Fairyland, 
holds at her court a solemn feudal festival, lasting twelve days, 
during which she sends forth twelve of her greatest knights on 
as many separate adventures. The knights are commissioned 
to champion the cause of persons in distress and redress their 
wrongs. The ideal knight. Prince Arthur, is the central male fig- 
ure of the i)oem. He is enamoured of Gloriana, having seen her 
in a wondrous vision, and is represented as journeying in quest 
of her. He appears in all of the legends at opportune mo- 
ments to succor the knights when they are hard beset or in the 
power of their enemies. The six extant books contain respec- 
tively the legends of (I) the Knight of the Redcrosse, or Holi- 
ness, (II) Sir Guyon, the Knight of Temperance, (III) 
Britomart, the female Knight of Chastity, (IV) Sir Campbell 
and Sir Triamond, the Knights of Friendship, (V) Sir Artegall, 
the Knight of Justice, and (VI) Sir Caledore, the Knight of 
Courtesy. Book I is an allegory of man's relation to God, 
Book II, of man's relation to himself. Books III, IV, V, and 
VI, of man's relation to his fellow-man. Prince Arthur, the 
personification of Magnificence, by which Spenser means Mag- 
nanimity (Aristotle's ixeyaXoij/vxta), is the ideal of a perfect 



THE FAERIE QUEENE xix 

character, in which all the private virtues are united. It is a 
poem of culture, inculcating the moral ideals of Aristotle and 
the teachings of Christianity. 

2. Influence of the New Learning. — Like Milton, Gray, 
and other English poets, Spenser was a scholar familiar witli 
tlie best in ancient and modern, literature. As to Spenser's 
specific indebtedness, though he owed much in incident and 
diction to Chaucer's version of the Romance of the Rose and 
to Malory's Morte cf Arthur, the great epic poets, Tasso 
and Ariosto, should be given first place. The resemblance of 
passages in the Faerie Queene to others in the Orlando 
Furioso and the Jerusalem Delivered is so striking that 
some have accused the Englisli poet of paraphrasing and 
slavishly borrowing from the two Italians. Many of these 
parallels are pointed out in the notes. To this criticism, Mr. 
Saintsbury remarks : " Not, perhaps, till the Orlando has been 
carefully read, and read in the original, is Spenser's real great- 
ness understood. He has often, and evidently of purpose, chal- 
lenged comparison ; but in every instance it will be found that 
his beauties are emphatically his own. He has followed 
Ariosto only as Vergil has followed Homer, and much less 
slavisldy." 

The influence of the New Learning is clearly evident in 
Spenser's use of classical mythology. Greek myths are placed 
side by side with Christian imagery and legends. Like Dante, the 
poet did not consider the Hellenic doctrine of sensuous beauty to 
be antagonistic to the truths of religion. There is sometimes an 
incongruous confusion of classicism and mediicvalism, as when 
a magician is seen in the house of Morpheus, and a sorcerer 
goes to the realm of Pluto. Spenser was guided by a higher 
and truer sense of beauty than the classical purists know. 

A very attractive element of his classicism is his ivorship of 
beauty. The Greek conception of beauty included two forms 
— the sensuous and the spiritual. So richly colored and volup- 



XX INTRODUCTION 

tuous are his descriptions that he has been called the painters' 
poet, " the Rubens," and " the Raphael of the poets." As 
with Plato, Spenser's idea of the spiritually beautiful includes 
the true and the good. Sensuous beauty is seen in the forms 
of external nature, like the morning mist and sunshine, the 
rose gardens, the green elders, and the quiet streams. His ideal 
of perfect sensuous and spiritual beauty combined is found in 
womanhood. Such a one is Una, the dream of the poet's 
young manhood, and we recognize in her one whose soul is as 
fair as her face — an idealized type of a woman in real life who 
calls forth all our love and reverence. 

3. Interpretation of the Allegory. — In the sixteenth 
century it was the opinion of Puritan England that every 
literary masterpiece should not only give entertainment, but 
should also teach some moral or spiritual lesson. " No one," 
says Mr. Patee, " after reading Spenser's letter to Raleigh, can 
wander far into Spenser's poem without the conviction that 
the author's central purpose was didactic, almost as much as 
was Bunyan's in PUgrini's Progress^ Milton doubtless had 
this feature of the Faerie Qaeene in mind when he wrote in 
II Penseroso : — 

' ' And if aught else great bards beside 
In sage and solemn tunes have sung 
Of turneys, and of trophies hung, 
Of forests and enchantments drear, 
Where more is meant than meets the ear.'''* 

That the allegory of the poem is closely connected with its 
aim and ethical tendency is evident from the statement of the 
author that "the generall end therefore of all the booke is to 
fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle 
discipline. Which for that I conceived should be most plausi- 
ble and pleasing, being coloured with an liistorical fiction, the 
which the most part of men delight to read, rather for varietie 
of matter then for profite of the ensample." The Faerie Queene 



THE FAERIE QUEEN E xxi 

is, therefore, according to the avowed purpose of its author, a 
poem of culture. --Though it is one of the most highly artistic 
works in the language, it is at the same time one of the most 
didactic. "It professes," says Mr. Church, "to be a veiled 
exposition of moral philosophy." 

The allegory is threefold, — moral, religious, and personal. 

(a) Moral Allegory. — The characters all represent various 
virtues and vices, whose intrigues and warfare against each 
other symbolize the struggle of the human soid after perfec- 
tion. The Redcross Knight, for example, personifies the single 
private virtue of holiness, while Prince Arthur stands for that 
perfect manhood which combines all the moral qualities ; Una 
represents abstract truth, while Gloriana symbolizes the union 
of all the virtues in perfect womanhood. 

(h) Religious or Spiritual Allegory. — Under this inter- 
pretation the Redcross Knight is a personification of Protes- 
tant England, or the church militant, while Una represents the 
true religion of the Reformed Church. On the other hand, 
Archimago symbolizes the deceptions of the Jesuits and Duessa 
the false Church of Rome masquerading as true religion, ^c*^ 

(c) Personal and Political Allegory. — Here we find a 
concrete presentation of many of Spenser's chief contemporaries. 
One of Spenser's prime objects in composing his epic was to 
please certain powerful persons at court, and above all to win 
praise and patronage from the vain and flattery loving queen, 
whom he celebrates as Gloriana. Prince Arthur is a character 
that similarly pays homage to Lord Leicester. In the Redcross 
Knight he compliments, no doubt, some gentleman like Sir 
Philip Sidney or Sir Walter Raleigh, as if he were a second St. 
George, the patron saint of England, while in Una we may see 
iddjjlized some fair lady of the court. In Archimago he satirizes 
the? odious King Phihp II of Spain, and in false Duessa the 
fascinating intriguer, Mary Queen of Scots, who was undeserving 
so hard a blow. 



XXll 



INTRODUCTION 



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THE STANZA xxill 

4. The Spenserian Stanza. — The Faerie Queene is written 
ill the Spenserian Stanza, a form which the poet himself invented 
as a suitable vehicle for a long narrative poem. Suggestions 
for its construction were taken from three Italian metres — the 
Ottava Rima, the Terza Rima, the Sonnet — and the Ballade 
stanza. There are eight lines in the iambic pentameter measure 
(five accents) ; e.g. — 

a gen | tie knight | was prick | ing on | the plaine 

followed by one iambic hexameter, or Alexandrine (six accents) ; 
e.g.— 



/ 



\j 



I w -/ I w ^ I 



as one | for knight | ly giusts | and fierce | encount | ers fitt 

The rhymes are arranged in the following order : ah ah he hcc. 
It will be observed that the two quatrains are bound together 
by the first two b rhymes, and the Alexandrine, which rhymes 
with the eighth line, draws out the harmony with a peculiar 
lingering eff'ect. In scanning and reading it is necessary to ob- 
serve the laws of accentuation and pronunciation prevailing in 
Spenser's day ; e.g. in learned (I, i), \mdeserved (I, ii), and 
ivoundes (V, xvii) the final syllable is sounded, patience (X, 
xxix) is trisyllabic, devotion (X, xl) is four syllables, and 
entertainment (X, xxxvii) is accented on the second and 
fourth syllables. Frequently there is in the line a csesural 
pause, which may occur anywhere ; e.g. — 

" And quite dismembred hath ; | the thirsty land 
Dronke up his life ; | his corse left on the strand." (Ill, xx.) 

The rhythm of the meter is also varied by the alternating of 
end-stopped and run-on lines, as in the last quotation. An 
end-stopped line has a pause at the end, usually indicated by 
some mark of punctuation. A run-on line should l)e read closely 
with the following line with only a slight pause to indicate the 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 

line-unit. Monotony is prevented by the occasional use of a 
light or feminine ending — a syllable on which the voice does 
not or cannot rest ; e.g. — 

"Then choosing out few words most horrible." (I, xxxvii.) 

" That for his love refused deity." (Ill, xxi.) 

" His ship far come from watrie wilderness." (Ill, xxxii.) 

The use of alliteration, i.e. having several words in a line be- 
ginning with the same letter, is another device frequently em- 
ployed by Spenser for musical effect ; e.g. — 

"In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare." (I, xxxvi.) . 
"Sweet slombriiig deaw, the which to sleep them biddes." (I, 
xxxvi.) 

5. Versification. — In the handling of his stanza, Spenser 
revealed a harmony, sweetness, and color never before dreamed 
of in the Englisli. Its compass, which admitted of an almost 
endless variety of cadence, harmonized well with the necessity 
for continuous narration. It appeals to the eye as well as to 
the ear, with its now languid, now vigorous, but always grace- 
ful turn of phrase. Its movement has been compared to the 
smooth, steady, irresistible sweep of water in a mighty river. 
Like Lyly, Marlowe, and Shakespeare, Spenser felt the new de- 
light in the pictorial and musical qualities of words, and in- 
vented new melodies and word pictures. He aimed rather at 
finish, exactness, and fastidious neatness than at ease, freedom, 
and irregularity ; and if his versification has any fault, it is that 
of monotony. The atmosphere is always perfectly adapted to 
the theme. 

6. Diction and Style. — The peculiar diction of the Faerie 
Queene should receive the careful attention of the student. As 
a romantic poet, Spenser often preferred archaic and semi-obsolete 
language to more modern forms. He uses four classes of words 
that were recognized as the proper and conventional language 



DICTION AND STYLE XXV 

of pastoral and romantic poetry ; viz. (a) archaisms, (b) dialect, 
(c) classicisms, and (d) gallicisms. He did not hesitate to 
adopt from Chaucer many obsolete words and grammatical 
forms. Examples are : the double negative with ne ; eyen, 
lenger, doen, ycladd, harrowd, piirchas, rauglit, seely, stowre, 
swinge, owch, and loitliouten. He also employs many old words 
from Layamon, Wiclif, and Langland, like swell, younglings, 
noye, kest, hurtle, and loft. His dialectic forms are taken from 
the vernacular of the North Lancashire folk with which he was 
familiar. Some are still a part of the spoken language of that 
region, such as, brent, cruddled, forswat, fearen, forray, 
pight, sithen, carle, and carke. 

Examples of his use of classical constructions are : the 
ablative absolute, as, which doen (IV, xliii) ; the relative con- 
struction with tvhen, as, tvhich when (I, xvii), that when (VII, 
xi); the comparative of the adjective in the sense of "too," 
as, weaker (I, xlv), harder (II, xxxvi) ; the participial construc- 
tion after till, as, till further try all made (I, xii) ; the super- 
lative of location, as, middest (IV, xv) ; and the old gerundive, 
as, wandering wood (I, xiii). Most of the gallicisms found are 
anglicized loan words from the French romans d'aventure, 
such as, disseized, cheare, chappell, assoiled, guerdon, pal- 
frey, recreaunt, trenchand, syre, and trusse. Notwithstanding 
Spenser's use of foreign words and constructions, his language 
is as thoroughly English in its idiom as that of any of our 
great poets. 

" I think that if he had not been a great poet," says Leigh 
Hunt, " he would have been a great painter." 

" After reading," says Pope, " a canto of Spenser two or 
three days ago to an old lady, between seventy and eighty 
years of age, she said that I had been showing her a gallery 
of pictures. I do not know how it is, but she said very right. 
There is something in Spenser that pleases one as strongly 
in old age as it did in youth. I read the Faerie Queene 



XXVI INTRODUCTION 

when I was about twelve, with mfinite delight ; and I think it 
gave me as much, when I read it over about a year or two ago." 
The imperishable charm of the poem lies in its appeal to the 
pure sense of beauty. " A beautiful pagan dream," says Taine, 
" carries on a beautiful dream of chivalry." The reader hears 
in its lines a stately and undulating rhythm that intoxicates 
the ear and carries him on with an irresistible fascination, he 
sees the unsubstantial forms of fairyland go sweeping by in a 
gorgeous and dreamlike pageantry, and he feels pulsing in its 
luxuriant and enchanted atmosphere the warm and beauty-loving 
temper of the Italian Renaissance. " Spenser is superior to his 
subject," says Taine, " comprehends it fully, frames it with a 
view to the end, in order to impress upon it the proper mark 
of his soul and his genius. Each story is modified with respect 
to another, and all with respect to a certain effect which is 
being worked out. Thus a beauty issues from this harmony, 
— the beauty in the poet's heart, — which his whole work strives 
to express; a noble and yet a laughing beauty, made up of moral 
elevation and sensuous seductions, English in sentiment, Italian 
in externals, chivalric in subject, modern in its perfection, rep- 
resenting a unique and admirable epoch, the appearance of 
paganism in a Christian race, and the worship of form by an 
imasrination of the North." 



CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 
Chronological Tahle 



EVENTS IN' SPENSER S LIFE 

Birth of Edinuud Spenser (about) 



Visions of BeJl(ty, published, 
Sonnets of I'einu'ch, pubhshed, 
Enters Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, 



Receives M.A., leaves Cambridge, 

Leaves Lancashire, 

Visits Lord Leicester, 

The Shepheards Calender, 

Goes to Ireland, 

Lord Grey's return to England, 



First marriage (before) 

Clerk to the Council of Munster, 

Visits England Avith Ealeigh, 

The Faerie Queene. Books I, II, 

in. 

Mother Ilubberds Tale. Tears of 
the 3[useK. I\'in'ne.s oj' 7'iiiie, Daph- 
naida, The Visions, 



Second mari-iage, 

Colin Cloufs Come Home Again, 

Amoretti, Ejiithalamion, Hymns, 

A strophel, Frotha lam ion. 

The Faerie Queene, Books I-Vl, 

View of the Present State (f Ire 

land, 
Death of Spenser, 



A.D. 

1552 
1553 
1554 
155S 
1500 
1563 
15C9 
1569 
1569 
1572 
1572 
1574 
1576 
157S 
1579 
1579 
1580 
1581 
1582 
1584 
1585 
1585 
1586 
1587 
1588 

1589 

1590 

1591 

1591 



1598 
1594 
1595 
1595 

1596 
1596 

1598 



CONTEMPORARY EVENTS 

Birth of Sir Walter Raleigh. 
Death of Edward V I ; Mary crowned. 
Mary marries Philiit of Spain. 
Death of Mary ; p]lizabeth crowned. 
Charles IX, king of France. 
Council of Trent. 



Gregory XIII, Pope of Rome. 
Massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
Henry III, king of France. 
Kudolph II, emperor. 
Elizabeth aids the Netherlands. 



Massacre of Smerwick. 

Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered. 

Assassination of "William the Silent. 
Sixtus V, Pope. Drake's voyage. 
Leicester goes to the Netherlands. 
Death of Sir Philip Sidney. 
Execution of Mary Queen of Scots. 
Defeat of Spanish Armada. Death of 

Leicester. 
Assassination of Henry III ; Henry 

IV crowned. 
Shakespeare's Love''s Lahour^s Lost. 

Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors, 

Henry VI. 
Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, trans. 
Shakespeare's Midsummer Niglifs 

Dream. 
Richard III. 
Shakespeare's Richard II. 
Shakespeare's King John. 
Johnston's Seven Champions of 

Christendom. 
Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice. 
Ben Jonson's Every Man in His 

Humour. 
Edict of Nantes ; Philip III crowned. 

Revolt of Irish. Expedition of Essex 
to Ireland. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LETTER TO SIR WALTER RALEIGH 

A LETTER of the Authors expoimdiiig his whole intention in 
the course of this worke ; ^ which, for that it giveth great light 
to the reader, for the better understanding is hereunto annexed. 

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE AND VALOROUS 

SIR WALTER RALEIGH, KNIGHT. 

Lo : Wardein of the Stanneries, and her majesties lieuten- 

aunt of the countie of Corneivayll. 
Sir, 

Knowing how doubtfully all Allegories may be constructed, 
and this booke of mine, which I have entitided 77te Faery 
Queene, being a continued Allegoric, or darke conceit, I have 
thought good, as well for avoyding of jealous opinions and 
misconstructions, as also for your better light in reading 
thereof, (being so, by you commanded) to discover unto you 
the generall intention and meaning, which in the whole course 
thereof I have fashioned, without expressing of any particular 
purposes, or by-accidents therein occasioned. yThe generall end 
therefore of all the booke, is to fashion a gentleman" or^TiobTe 
person in vertuous and gentle discipline. Which for that I 
conceived shoulde be most plausible and pleasing, beeing coloured 
with an historicall fiction, the which the most part of men 
delight to read, rather for varietie of matter than for profit of 
the ensample : I chose the historic of king Arthure. as most fit 

1 The letter served as au introduction to the first three books of the 

Faerie Queene. 

3 



4 INTRODUCTION 

for the excellencie of his pei\soii, beeing made famous by many 
mens former workes, and also furthest from the danger of envie, 
and suspicion of present time. In which I have followed all 
the antique poets historicall : first Homer, who in the persons 
of Agamemnon and Ulysses hath ensampled a good governour 
and a vertuous man, the one in his lUas, the other in his 
Odysseis : then Virgil, whose like intention was to doe in the 
person of ^Eneas : after him Ariosto comprised them both jn 
his Orlando: and lately Tasso dissevered them againe, and 
formed both parts in two persons, namely, that part which 
they in philosophy call Ethice, or vertues of a private man, 
coloured in his Rinaldo : the other named Politice, in his 
Godfredo. By ensample of which excellent Poets, I laboure 
to pourtraict in Arthure, before he was king, the image of a 
brave knight, perfected in the twelve private morall vertues, as 
Aristotle hath devised : which if I find to be well accepted, I 
may be perhaps encoraged to frame the other part of pollitike 
vertues in his person, after he came to bee king. 

To some I know this Methode will seem displeasant, which 
had rather have good discipline delivered plainly in way of 
precepts, or sermoned at large, as they use, then thus clowdily 
enwrapped in Allegoricall devises. But such, mee seeme, should 
be satisfied with the use of these dayes, seeing all things 
accounted by their showes, and nothing esteemed of, that is 
not delightfull and pleasing to common sense. For this cause 
is Xenophon preferred before Plato, for that the one, in the 
exquisite depth of his judgement, formed a Commune-wealth, 
such as it should be ; but the other, in the person of Cyrus and 
the Persians, fashioned a government, such as might best be : 
So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by ensample 
then by rule. So have I laboured to do in the person of 
Arthure : whom I conceive, after his long education by Timon 
(to whom he was by Merlin delivered to be brought up, so 
soone as he was borne of the Lady Igrayne) to have seen in a 



LETTER TO SIR WALTER RALEIGH 5 

dreame or vision the Faerie Queene, with- whose excellent 
beautie ravished, hee awaking, resolved to seek her out : and 
so, being by Merlin armed, and by Timon throughly instructed, 
he went to seeke her forth in Faery land. In that Faery 
Queene I mean Glory in my generall intention: but in my 
particular I conceive the most excellent and glorious person of 
our soveraine the Queene, and her kingdome in Faery land. 
And yet, in some places else, I doe otherwise shadow her. For 
considering shee beareth two persons, the one of a most royall 
Queene or Empresse, the other of a most vertuous and beauti- 
full lady, this latter part in some places I doe expresse in 
Belphoebe, fashioning her name according to your owne excel- 
lent conceipt of Cynthia,^ (Phoebe and Cynthia being both 
names of Diana). So in the person of Prince Arthure I sette 
forth magnificence in particular, which vertue, for that (accord- 
ing to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection of all the rest, 
and containeth in it them all, therefore in the whole course I 
mention the deeds of Arthure appliable to the vertue, which I 
write of in that booke. But of the twelve other vertues I make 
XII other knights the patrons, for the more varietie of the 
historic : Of which these three bookes containe three. The 
first, of the Knight of the Red crosse, in whom I expresse 
Holinesse : the second of Sir Guyon, in whome I set foorth 
Temperance : the third of Britomartis, a Lady knight, in whom 
I picture Chastitie. But because the beginning of the whole 
worke seemeth abrupt and as depending upon other antece- 
dents, it needs that yee know the occasion of these three knights 
severall adventures. For the Methode of a Poet historicall is 
not such as of an Historiographer. For an Historiographer 
discourseth of affaires orderly as they were done, accounting as 
well the times as the actions ; but a Poet thrusteth into the 
middest, even where it most concerneth him, and there recours- 
ing to the things forepast, and divining of things to come, 
1 An allusion to Sir Walter Raleigh's poem Cynthia. 



6 INTRODUCTION 

maketh a pleasing analysis of all. The beginning therefore of 
my historic, if it were to be told by an Historiographer, should 
be the twelfth booke, which is the last ; where I devise that 
the Faery Queene kept her annuall feast twelve dales ; uppon 
which twelve severall dayes, the occasions of the twelve 
severall adventures hapned, which being undertaken by XII 
severall knights, are in these twelve books severally handled 
and discoursed. 

The first was this. In the beginning of the feast, there pre- 
sented him selfe a tall clownish younge man, who falling before 
the Queene of Faeries desired a boone (as the manner then was) 
which during that feast she might not refuse : which was that 
hee might have the atchievement of any adventure, which dur- 
ing that feast should happen ; that being granted, he rested 
him selfe on the fioore, unfit through his rusticitie for a better 
place. Sooiie after entred a faire Ladie in mourning weedes, 
riding on a white Asse, with a dwarfe behind her leading a war- 
like steed, that bore the Armes of a knight, and his speare in 
the dwarfes hand. She falling before the Queene of Faeries, 
complayned that her father and mother, an ancient King and 
Queene, had bene by an huge dragon many yeers shut up in a 
brazen Castle, who thence suffered them not to issew : and 
therefore besought the Faery Queene to assigne her some one 
of her knights to take on him that exployt. Presently that 
clownish person upstarting, desired that adventure ; whereat 
the Queene much wondering, and the Lady much gaine-saying, 
yet he earnestly importuned his desire. In the end the Lady 
told him, that unlesse that armour which she brought would 
serve him (that is, the armour of a Christian man. specified by 
Saint Paul, V. Ephes.) that he could not succeed in that enter- 
prise : which being forth with put upon him with due furnitures 
thereunto, he seemed the goodliest man in al that company, and 
was well liked of the Lady. And eftesoones taking on him 
knighthood, and mounting on that straunge Courser, he went 



LETTER TO SIR WALTER RALEIGH 7 

forth with her on that adventure : where beginneth the first 
booke, viz. 

A gentle knight was pricking on the playne, etc. 

The second day there came in a Palmer bearing an Infant 
with bloody hands, whose Parents he complained to have bene 
slaine by an enchauntresse called Acrasia : and therefore craved 
of the Faery Queene, to appoint him some knight to performe 
that adventure, which being assigned to Sir Guyon, he pres- 
ently went foorth with the same Palmer : which is the begin- 
ning of the second booke and the whole subject thereof The 
third day there came in a Groome, who complained before the 
Faery Queene, that a vile Enchaunter, called Busirane, had 
in hand a most faire Lady, called Amoretta, whom he kept in 
most grevious torment. Whereupon Sir Scudamour, the lover 
of that Lady, presently tooke on him that adventure. But 
beeing unable to performe it by reason of the hard Enchaunt- 
ments, after long sorrow, in the end met with Britomartis, who 
succoured him, and reskewed his love. 

But by occasion hereof, many other adventures are inter- 
medled ; but rather as accidents then intendments. As the 
love of Britomart, the overthrow of Marinell, the miserie of 
Florimell, the vertuousuess of Belphoebe ; and many the like. 

Thus much, Sir, I have briefly-over-run to direct your under- 
standing to the wel-head of the History, that from thence 
gathering the whole intention of the conceit, ye may as in a hand- 
full gripe all the discourse, which otherwise mny happely seem 
tedious and confused. So humbly craving the continuance of 
your honourable favour towards me, and th' eternall establish- 
ment of your happines, I humbly take leave. 

Yours most humbly affectionate, 

Edm. Spenser. 
23 Januarie, 1589. 



To the Bight JSFoble and Valorous Knight, 

SIR WALTER RALEIGH, 

Lord Wardein of the Stanneryes, and Lieftenamit of Cornewaile. 

To thee that art the sommers Nightingale, 
Thy soveraigne Goddesses most deare delight, 
Why doe I send this rustick Madrigale, 
That may thy tunefull eare unseason quite 1 

Thou onely fit this argument to write 

In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre, 
And dainty Love learnd sweetly to endite. 
My rimes I know unsavory and sowre. 

To taste the streames, that, like a golden showre, 
Flow from thy fruitfull head, of thy Loves praise ; 
Fitter perhaps to thunder martiall stowre, 
When so thee list thy loftie Muse to raise : 

Yet, till that thou thy poeme wilt make knowne, 

Let thy faire Cinthias praises be thus rudely showne. 

E. S. 



TO 
THE MOST HIGH, MIGHTIE, AND MAGNIFICENT 

EMPERESSE 

RENOWNED FOR PIETIE, VERTVE, AND ALL GRATIOVS GOVERNMENT 

ELIZABETH 

BY THE GRACE OF GOD 

^nmxt of ^itglmtb, Jfrabntc, anb Ifelanb, anb of Virginia 
§zknhzx of tfef Jfaitlj zk. 

HER MOST HUMBLE SERVAUNT 

EDMVND SPENSER 

DOTH IN ALL HUMILITIE 

DEDICATE, PRESENT, AND CONSECRATE 

THESE HIS LABOVES 

TO LIVE WITH THE ETERNITIE OF HER FAME. 



THE FIRST BOOKE OF 

THE FAERIE QUEENE 

CONTATNING 

THE LEGENDE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE RED 
CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSE 



Lo I the man,° whose Muse whilome did maske, 
As time her taught, in lowly Shepheards weeds, 
Am now enforst a far unfitter taske. 
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds, 
And sing of Knights and Ladies° gentle deeds ; 5 

Whose prayses having slept in silence long, 
Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds 
To blazon broade emongst her learned throng : 

Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song. 

II 

Helpe then, holy Virgin chiefe of nine,° 10 

Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will ; 

Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne 

The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still, 

Of Faerie knights° and fairest Tanaquill,° 

Whom that most noble Briton Prince° so long 15 

Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill. 

That I must rue his undeserved wrong : 
helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong. 
11 



12 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



III 

And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,° 

Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart 20 

At that good knight so cunningly didst rove, 

That glorious fire it kindled in his hart, 

Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart, 

And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde ; 

Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,° 25 

In loves and gentle jollities arrayd, 

After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd. 

IV 

And with them eke, Goddesse heavenly bright,° 
Mirrour of grace and Majestic divine, 
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light 30 

Like Phoebus lampe° throughout the world doth shine, 
Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne, 
And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile. 
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine, ° 
The argument of mine afflicted stile :° 35 

The which to heare, vouchsafe, dearest dred,° a- while. 



CANTO I 13 



CANTO I 



The Patron of true Holinesse 
foule Errour doth defeate ; 

Hypocrisie him to entrappe 
doth to his home entreate. 



A GENTLE Knight° was pricking on the plaine, 

Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, 

Wherein old dints of deepe wounds did remaine, 

The cruel markes of many'a bloudy fielde ; 

Yet armes till that time did he never wield : 5 

His angry steede did chide his foming bitt, 

As much disdayning to the curbe to yield : 

Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, 
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt. 

II 

And on his brest a bloudie Crosse he bore, 10 

The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, 
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, 
And dead as living ever him ador'd : 
Upon his shield the like w^as also scor'd, 
For soveraine hope,° which in his helpe he had : 15 

Right faithfull true he was in deede and word, 
But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad ; 

Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. 



14 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



III 



Upon a great adventure he was bond, 

That gi'eatest Gloriana° to him gave, 20 

That greatest Glorious Queene of Faerie lond, 

To winne him worship, and her grace to have, 

Which of all earthly things he most did crave ; 

And ever as he rode, his hart did earne 

To prove his puissance in battell brave 25 

Upon his foe, and his new force to learne ; 

Upon his foe, a Dragon° horrible and stearne. 

IV 

A lovely Ladie° rode him faire beside, 

Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow, 

Yet she much whiter," but the same did hide 30 

Under a vele, that wimpled was full low, 

And over all a blacke stole she did throw. 

As one that inly mournd : so was she sad, 

And heavie sat upon her palfrey slow ; 

Seemed in heart some hidden care she had, 35 

And by her in a line a milke white lambe she lad. 



So pure and innocent, as that same lambe, 

She was in life and every vertuous lore, 

And by descent from Royall lynage came 

Of ancient Kings and Queenes, that had of yore 40 

Their scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore. 

And all the world in their subjection held ; 

Till that infernall feend with foule uprore 

Forwasted all their land, and them expeld : 
Whom to avenge, she had this Knight from far compeld. 45 



CANTO I 15 



Behind her farre away a Dwarfe° did lag, 
That lasie seemd in being ever last, 
Or wearied with bearing of her bag 
Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past. 
The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast, 50 

And angry Jove an hideous storme of raiiie 
Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast, 
That everie wight to shrowd it did constrain, 

And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain. 

VII 

Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand, 55 

A shadie grove° not far away they spide, 
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand : 
Whose loftie trees yclad with sommers pride 
Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide, 
Not perceable with power of any starre : 60 

And all withhi were pathes and alleies wide. 
With footing worne. and leading inward farre : 

Faire harbour that them seemes ; so in they entred arre. 

VIII 

And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led. 

Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony, 65 

Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred, 

Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. 

Much can they prayse the trees so straight and hy. 

The say ling Pine,° the Cedar proud and tall. 

The vine-prop Elme, the Poplar never dry,° 70 

The builder Oake,° sole king of forrests all. 

The Aspine good for staves, the Cypresse funerall.° 



16 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



IX 



The Laurell,° meed of mightie Conquerours 
And Poets sage, the firre that weepeth still, ° 
The Willow° worne of forlorne Paramours, 75 

The Eugh° obedient to the benders will. 
The Birch for shaftes, the Sallow for the mill, 
The Mirrhe° sweete bleeding in the bitter womid. 
The warlike Beech,° the Ash for nothing ill,° 
The fruitful! Olive, and the Platane round, 80 

The carver Holme,° the Maple seeldom inward sound. 



Led with delight, they thus beguile the way, 
Untill the blustring storme is overblowne ; 
When weening to returne, wdience they did stray, 
They cannot finde that path, which first was showne, 85 
But wander too and fro in wayes unknowne, 
Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene. 
That makes them doubt their wits be not their owne : 
So many pathes, so many turnings seene, 

That which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been. 90 

XI 

At last resolving forward still to fare, 

Till that some end they finde or in or out. 

That path they take, that beaten seemd most bare, 

And like to lead the labyrinth about ; 

Which when by tract they hunted had throughout, 95 

At length it brought them to a hollow cave 

Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout 

Eftsooones dismounted from his courser brave. 

And to the Dwarfe awhile his needlesse spere he gave. 



CANTO I 17 

XII 

Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde, 100 

Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke : 
The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde, 
Breedes dreadfull doubts : Oft fire is without smoke, 
And perill without show : therefore your stroke, 
Sir Knight, with-hold, till further triall made. 105 

Ah Ladie, (said he) shame were to revoke° 
The forward footing for an hidden shade : 

Vertue gives her selfe light, through darkenesse for to w^de. 

xni 

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place 

I better wot then you, though now too late 110 

To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace. 

Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate, 

To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate. 

This is the wandring wood,° this Errours den, 

A monster vile, whom God and man does hate : 115 

Therefore I read beware. Fly fly (quoth then 

The fearefull Dwarfe) this is no place for living men. 

XIV 

But full of fire and greedy hardiment. 

The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide. 

But forth unto the darksome hole he went, 120 

And looked in : his glistring armor made 

A litle glooming light, much like a shade, 

By which he saw the ugly monsier° plaine, 

Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide. 

But th 'other halfe did womans shape retaine, 125 

Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.° 



18 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XV 



And as she lay upon the durtie ground, 
Her huge long taile her den all overspred, 
Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound, 
Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred° 130 

A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed. 
Sucking upon her poisnous dugs, eachone 
Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored : 
Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone, 

Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone. 135 

XVI 

Their dam upstart, out of her den effraide. 
And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile 
About her cursed head, whose folds displaid 
Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile. 
She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle 140 

Armed to point,° sought backe to turne againe; 
For light she hated as the deadly bale. 
Ay wont in desert darknesse to remaine, 

Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plaine. 

XVII 

Which when the valiant Elfe° perceiv'd, he lept 145 

As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray. 
And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept 
From turning backe, and forced her to stay : 
Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to bray. 
And turning fierce, her speckled taile advaunst, 150 

Threatning her angry sting, him to dismay : 
Who nought aghast his mightie hand enhaunst : 

The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst. 



CANTO I 19 



XVIII 



Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd, 

Yet kindling rage, her selfe she gathered round, ^^^ 

And all attonce her beastly body raizd 

With doubled forces high above the ground : 

Tho wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd, 

Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine 

All suddenly about his body wound, 160 

That hand or foot to stirre he strove in vaine : 

God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine. 

XIX 

His Lady sad to see his sore constraint, 

Gride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee, 

Add faith unto your force, and be not faint : 165 

Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee. 

That when he heard, in great perplexitie. 

His gall did grate for griefe° and high disdaine. 

And knitting all his force got one hand free, 

Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, 170 

That soone to loose her wicked bauds did her constraine. 



XX 

Therewith she spewd out of her filthy maw 
A floud of poyson horrible and blacke, 
Full of great lumpes of flesh and gobbets raw. 
Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke 175 

His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe : 
Her vomit full of bookes° and papers was, 
With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke, 
And creeping sought way in the weedy gras : 

Her filthy parbreake all the place defiled has. * 180 



20 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXI 

As when old father ISTilus" gins to swell 

With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale, 

His fattie waves do fertile slime outwell, 

And overflow each plaine and lowly dale : 

But when his later spring gins to avale, 185 

Huge heapes of mudd he leaves, wherein there breed 

Ten thousand kindes of creatures, partly male 

And partly female of his fruitful seed ; 

Such ugly monstrous shapes elswhere may no man reed. 

XXII 

The same so sore annoyed has the knight, 190 

That welnigh choked with the deadly stinke, 

His forces fade, ne can no lenger fight. 

Whose corage when the feend perceiv'd to shrinke, 

She poured forth out of her hellish sinke 

Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small, 195 

Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke, 

With swarming all about his legs did crall, 
And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all. 

XXIII 

As gentle Shepheard° in sweete even-tide. 

When ruddy Phoebus gins to welke in west, 200 

High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide, 

Markes which do byte their hasty supper best, 

A cloud of combrous gnattes do him molest, 

All striving to infixe their feeble stings, 

That from their noyance he no where can rest, 205 

But with his clownish hands their tender wings 

He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings. 



CANTO I 21 

XXIV 

Thus ill bestedd,° and fearefull more of shame, 

Then of the certeine perill he stood in, 

Halfe furious unto his foe he came, 210 

Resolv'd in minde all suddenly to win, 

Or soone to lose, before he once would lin 

And strooke at her with more then manly force, 

That from her body full of filthie sin 

He raft her hatefull head without remorse ; 215 

A streame of cole black bloud forth gushed from her corse. 

XXV 

Her scattred brood, ° soone as their Parent deare 
They saw so rudely falling to the ground, 
Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare, 
Gathred themselves about her body round, 220 

Weening their wonted entrance to have found 
At her wide mouth : but being there withstood 
They flocked all about her bleeding wound. 
And sucked up their dying mothers blood, 

Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good. 225 

XXVI 

That detestable sight him much amazde, 

To see th' unkindly Impes, of heaven accurst, 

Devoure their dam ; on whom while so he gazd. 

Having all satisfide their bloudy thurst. 

Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst, 230 

And bowels gushing forth : well worthy end 

Of such as drunke her life, the whjch them nurst ; ° 

Now needeth him no lenger labour spend, 

His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should contend." 



22 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXVII 

His Laclie seeing all that chaunst, from farre 
Approcht in hast to greet his victorie, 
And said, Faira knight, borne under happy starre, 
Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye : 
Well worthie be you of that Armorie,° 
Wherin ye have great glory wonne this day, 
And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie, 
Your first adventure : many such I pray, 

And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may.° 

XXVIII 

Then mounted he upon his Steede againe, 

And with the Lady backward soUj^ht to wend ; 

That path he kept which beaten was most plaine, 

Ne ever would to any by-way bend. 

But still did follow one unto the end, 

The which at last out of the wood them brought. 

So forward on his way (with God to frend)° 

He passed forth, and new adventure sought ; 

Long way he travelled, before he heard of ought. 

XXIX 

At length they chaunst to meet upon the way 
An aged Bire,° in long blacke weedes yclad. 
His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray 
And by his belt his booke he hanging had ; 
Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad, 
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent. 
Simple in shew, and voyde of malice bad, 
And all the way he prayed, as he went, 

And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent. 



CANTO I 23 

XXX 

He faire the knight saluted, louting low, 

Who faire him quited, as that courteous was : 

And after asked him, if he did know 

Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas. 265 

Ah my deare Sonne (quoth he) how should, alas, 

Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell, 

Bidding his beades all day for his trespas, 

Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell ? 
With holy father sits not with such things to mell. 270 

XXXI 

But if of daunger which hereby doth dwell. 
And homebred evjl ye desire to heare, 
Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell, 
That wasteth all this countrey far re and neare. 
Of such (said he) I chiefly do inquere, 275 

And shall you well reward to shew the place, 
In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare : 
For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace. 

That such a cursed creature lives so long a space. 

XXXII 

Far hence (quoth he) in wastfull wildernesse 280 

His dwelHng is, by which no living wight * 

May ever passe, but thorough great distresse. 
Now (sayd the Lady) draweth toward night, 
And well I wote, that of your later fight 
Ye all forwearied be : for what so strong, 285 

But wanting rest will also want of might 1 
The Snnne that measures heaven all day long, 

At niofht doth baite his steedes the Ocean waves emong. 



24 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXIII 

Then with the Sunne take Sir, your timely rest, 

And with new day new worke at once begin : 290 

Untroubled night they say gives counsell best. 

Right well Sir knight ye have advised bin, 

(Quoth then that aged man ;) the way to win 

Is wisely to advise : now day is spent ; 

Therefore with me ye may take up your In° 295 

For this same night. The knight was well content : 

So with that godly father to his home they went. 

XXXIV 

A little lowly Hermitage it was, 

Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side, 

Far from resort of people, that did pas 300 

In travell to and froe : a little wyde° 

There was an holy Chappell edify de. 

Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say 

His holy things each morne and eventyde : 

Thereby a Christall streame did gently play, 305 

Which from a sacred fouutaine welled forth alway. 

XXXV 

Arrived there, the little house they fill, 

Ne looke for entertainement, where none was : 
Rest is their feast, and all things at their will : 
(The noblest mind the best contentment has.) 310 

With faire discourse the evening so they pas : 
For that old man of pleasing wordes had store, 
And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas, 
He told of Saintes and Popes, and evermore 

He strowd an Ave-Mary° after and before. 315 



CANTO I 25 



XXXVI 



The drouping Night thus creepeth on them fast, 
And the sad himioiir° loading their eye Uddes, 
As messenger of Morpheus° on them cast 
Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleepe them biddes. 
Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes : 320 

Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes, 
He to this study goes, and there amiddes 
His Magick bookes and artes° of sundry kindes, 

He seekes out mighty charmes, to trouble sleepy mindes. 

XXXVII 

Then choosing out few words most horrible, 325 

(Let none them read) thereof did verses frame, 
With which and other spelles like terrible, 
He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly Dame,° 
And cursed heaven and spake reprochfull shame 
Of highest God, the Lord of life and light ; 330 

A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name 
Great Gorgon, ° Prince of darknesse and dead night, 

At which Cocytus° quakes, and Styx is put to flight. 

XXXVIII 

And forth he cald out of deepe darknesse dred 

Legions of Sprights,° the which like little flyes 335 

Fluttring about his ever damned hed, 

Awaite whereto their service he applyes. 

To aide his friends, or fray his enimies : 

Of those he chqse° out two, the falsest twoo. 

And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes ; 340 

The one of them he gave a message too, 

The other by him selfe staide other worke to doo. 



26 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIX 



He making speedy way through spersed ayre, 

And through the world of waters wide and deepe, 

To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire. 345 

Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe, 

And low, where dawning day doth never peepe, 

His dwelling is ; there Tethys° his wet bed 

Doth ever wash, and Cynthia° still doth steepe 

In silver deaw liis ever-drouping hed, 350 

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred. 

XL 

Whose double gates° he findeth locked fast, 

The one faire fram'd of burnisht Yvory, 

The other all with silver overcast ; 

And wakeful dogges before them farre do lye, 355 

Watching to banish Care their enimy, 

Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. 

By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly. 

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe 
In drowsie fit he findes : of nothing he takes keepe. 360 

XLI 

And more, to lulle him in his slumber soft,° 

A trickling streame from^ high rock tumbling downe, 

And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, 

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne 

Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne : 365 

No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, 

As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne, 

Might there be heard : but carelesse Quiet lyes, 

Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enemyes. 



CANTO I 27 



XLII 



The messenger approching to him spake, 370 

But his wast wordes returnd to him in vaine : 
So sound lie slept, that nought niought him awake. 
Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine 
Whereat he gan to stretch : but he againe 
Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake. 375 

As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine° 
Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake, 

He mumbled soft, but would not air his silence breake. 

XLIII 

The Sprite then gan more b6ldly him to wake, 

And threatned unto him the dreaded name 380 

Of Hecate° : whereat he gan to quake. 

And lifting up his lumpish head, with blame 

Halfe angry asked him, for what he came. 

Hither (quoth he) me Archimago sent, 

He that the stubborne Sprites can wisely tame, 385 

He bids thee to him send for his intent 
A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent.° 

XLIV 

The God obayde, and, calling forth straightway 
A diverse dreame out of his prison darke, 
Delivered it to him, and downe did lay 390 

His heavie head, devoid e of carefull carke, 
Whose sences all were straight benumbed and starke. 
He backe returning by the Yvorie dore. 
Remounted up as light as chearefull Larke, 
And on his litle winges the dreame he bore 393 

in hast unto his Lord, where he him left afore. 



28 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XLV 

Who all this while with charmes and hidden artes, 
Had made a Lady of that other Spright, 
And fram'd of liquid ay re her tender partes 
So lively, and so like in all mens sight, 4C 

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight : 
The maker selfe, for all his wondrous witt, 
Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight : 
Her all in white he clad, and over it 

Cast a black stole, most like to seeme° for Una fit. 4C 

XL VI 

Now when that ydle dreame was to him brought, 

Unto that Elfin knight he bad him fly. 

Where he slept soundly void of evill thought. 

And with false shewes abuse his fantasy, 

In sort as he him schooled privily : 41 

And that new creature, borne without her dew,° 

Full of the makers guile, with usage sly 

He taught to imitate that Lady trew, 
Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned hew. 

XLVII 

Thus well instructed, to their worke they hast, 41 

And coming where the knight in slomber lay. 
The one upon his hardy head him plast 
And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play, 
That nigh his manly hart did melt away, 
Bathed in wanton blis and wicked joy : 42 

Then seemed him his Lady by him lay. 
And to him playnd, how that false winged boy. 

Her chast hart had subdewd, to learne Dame Pleasures toy. 



CANTO I 29 



XLVIII 

And she herselfe of beautie soveraigne Queene, 

Fayre Venus° seemde unto his bed to bring 425 

Her, whom he waking evermore did weene, 

To bee the chastest flowre, that ay did spring 

On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king, 

Now a loose Leman to vile service bound : 

And eke the Graces" seemed all to sing, 430 

Hymen Id Ilymeif dauncing all around, 

Whilst freshest Flora° her with Yvie girlond crownd. 

XLIX 

In this great passion of unwonted lust, 

Or wonted feare of doing ought amis, 

He started up, as seeming to mistrust 435 

Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his : 

Lo there before his face his Lady is. 

Under blake stole hyding her bayted hooke ; 

And as halfe blushing offred him to kis. 

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke, 440 

Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him took. 



All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight, 
And half enraged at her shamelesse guise, 
He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight : 
But hasty heat tempring with sutfrance wise, 445 

He stayde his hand, and gan himselfe advise 
. To prove his sense,° and tempt her faigned truth. 
Wringing her hands in womans pitteous wise, 
Tho can she weepe,° to stirre up gentle ruth. 

Both for her noble iDloud, and for her tender youth. 450 



30 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LI 



And said, Ah Sir, my liege Lord and my love, 
Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate. 
And mightie causes wrought in heaven above. 
Or the bli^id God,° that doth me thus amate. 
For hoped love to winne me certaine hate ? 455 

Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die. 
Die is my dew; yet rew my wretched state 
You, whom my hard avenging destinie 

Kath made judge of my life or death indifferently. 

LII 

Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave 460 

My Fathers kingdome — There she stopt with teares ; 
Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave, 
And then again e l)egun ; My weaker yeares 
Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares. 
Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde : 465 

Let me not dye in languor and long teares. 
Why Dame (quoth he) what hath ye thus dismayd? 

What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd ? 

LIII 

Love of your selfe, she saide, and deare constraint, 

Lets me not sleepe, but wast the wearie night 470 

In secret anguish and unpittied plaint. 

Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight. 

Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight 

Suspect her truth : yet since no' untruth he knew, 

Her fawning love with foule disdainefuU spight 475 

He would not shend ; but said, Deare dame I rew, 

That for my sake unknowue such griefe unto you grew. 



CANTO I 31 



LIV 



Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground ; ° 
For all so deare as life is to my hart, 
I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound : 480 

Ne let vaine feares procure your needlesse smart, 
Where cause is none, but to your rest depart. 
Not all content, yet seemd she to appease 
Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art. 
And fed with words that could not chuse but please, 485 

So slyding softly forth, she turned as to her ease. 

LV 

Long after lay he musing at her mood. 

Much griev'd to thinke that gentle Dame so light, 

For whose defence he was to shed his blood. 

At last, dull wearinesse of former fight 490 

Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright, 

That troublous dreame gan freshly tosse his braine, 

With bowres, and beds, and Ladies deare delight : 

But when he saw his labour all was vaine, 

With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe. 495 



32 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



CANTO II 



The gxdlefull great Endumnter parts 
the Redcrosse Knight from truth, 

Into whose stead f aire Falshood steps, 
and workes him wofull ruth. 



By this the Northerne wagoner° had set 

His sevenfold teiiie° beliiiid the stedfast starre,° 

That was in Ocean waves yet never wet, 

But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre 

To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre : 5 

And chearefull Chaunticlere° with his note shrill 

Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre° 

In hast was climbing up the Easterne hill, 

Full envious that night so long his roome did fill. 

II 

When those accursed messengers of hell, 10 

That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged Spright° 
Came to their wicked maister, and gan tell 
Their bootelesse paines, and ill succeeding night : 
Who all in rage to see his skilfull might 
Deluded so, gan threaten hellish paine 15 

And sad Proserpines wrath, them to affright. 
But when he saw his threatning was but vaine, 

He cast about, and searcht his baleful bookes againe. 



CANTO II 33 



III 

Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated faire, 

And that false other Spright, on whom he spred 20 

A seeming body of the subtile aire, 

Like a young Squire, in loves and lustybed 

His wanton dayes that ever loosely led, 

Without regard of armes and dreaded fight : 

Those two he tooke, and in a secret bed, 25 

Coverd with darknesse and misdeeming night,' 

Them both together laid, to joy in vaine delight. 

IV 

Forthwith he runnes with feigned faithfuU hast 
Unto his guest, who after troublous sights 
And dreames, gan now to take more sound repast, 30 

Whom suddenly he wakes with fearfull frights, 
As one aghast with feends or damned sprights, . 
And to him cals. Rise, rise, unhappy Swaine 
That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights 
Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine, 35 

Come see where your false Lady doth her honour staine. 



All in amaze he suddenly upstart 

With sword in hand, and with the old man went 

W^ho soone him brought into a secret part 

Where that false couple were full closely ment 40 

In wanton lust and lend embracement : 

Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fire, 

The eye of reason was with rage yblent. 

And would have slaine them in his furious ire, 
But hardly was restreined of that aged sire. 45 



34 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

VI 

Returning to his bed in torment great, 
And bitter anguish of his guiltie sight, 
He could not rest, but did liis stout heart eat, 
And wast his inward gall with deepe despight, 
Yrkesome of life, and too long lingring night. 50 

At last faire Hesperus° in highest skie 
Had spent his lampe and brought forth dawning light, 
Then up he rose, and clad him hastily ; 

The Dwarfe him brought his steed : so both away do fly. 

VII 

Now when the rosy-fingred Morning" faire, 55 

Weary of aged Tithones° saffron bed, 
Had spread her purple robe through deawy aire, 
And the high hils Titan° discovered. 
The royall virgin shooke off drowsy-hed ; 
And rising forth out of her baser bowre, GO 

Lookt for her knight, who far away Avas fled. 
And for her Dwarfe, that wont to w^ait each hoiire : 

Then gan she waile and weepe, to see that woefuU stowre. 

VIII 

And after him she rode with so much speeds 

As her slow beast could make ; but all in vaine : 65 

For him so far had borne his light-foot steed e, 

Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine. 

That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine ; 

Yet she her weary limbes would never rest, 

But every hill and dale, each wood and plaine, 70 

Did search, sore grieved in her gentle brest, 

He so ungently left her, whom she loved best. 



CANTO II 35 



IX 

But siibtill Archimago, when his guests 
He saw divided into double parts, 

And Una wandring in woods and forrests, 75 

Th' end of his drift, he praisd his divehsh arts, 
That had such might over true meaning liarts : 
Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make, 
How he may worke unto her further smarts : 
For her he hated as the hissing snake, " 80 

And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. 



He then devisde himselfe how to disguise ; 
For by his rnightie science he could take 
As many formes and shapes in seeming wise, 
As ever Proteus° to himselfe could make : 85 

Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake, 
Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell, 
That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake, 
And oft would tiie away. who can tell 

The hidden power of herbes° and might of Magicke spell ? 90 

XI 

But now seemde best the person to put on 

Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest : 

In mighty amies he was yclad anon : 

And silver shield, upon his coward brest 

A bloudy crosse, and on his craven crest 95 

A bounch of haires discolourd diversly : 

Full jolly knight he seemde, and well addrest, 

And when he sate upon his courser free. 
Saint George himself ye would have deemed him to be. 



36 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XII 

But he the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare, 100 

The true Saint George, was wandred far away. 
Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare ; 
Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. 
At last him chaunst to meete upon the way 
A faithless Sarazin° all arm'd to point, 105 

In whose great shield was writ with letters gay 
Sans foy : fiill large of limbe and every joint 

He was, and cared not for God or man a point. 

XIII 

He had a faire companion" of his way, 

A goodly Lady clad in scarlot red, 110 

Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay, 

And like a Persian mitre on her hed 

She wore, with crowns and owches garnished, 

The which her lavish lovers to her gave ; 

Her wanton palfrey all was overspred 115 

With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave. 
Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave. 

XIV 

With faire disport and courting dalliaunce 
She intertainde her lover all the way : 
But when she saw the knight his speare advaunce, 120 
She soone left otf her mirth and wanton play, 
And bade her knight addresse him to the fray : 
His foe was nigh at hand. He prickt with pride 
And hope to winne his Ladies heart that day, 
Forth spurred fast : adowne his coursers side 125 

The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride. 



CANTO II 37 



The knight of the Redcrosse when him he spide, 
Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous, 
Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride : 
Soone meete they both, both fell and furious, 130 

That daunted with their forces hideous, 
Their steeds do stagger, and amazed stand. 
And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, 
Astonied with the stroke of their owne hand 

Doe backe rebut, and each to other yeeldeth land. 135 

XVI 

As when two rams° stird with ambitious pride, 

Fight for the rule of the rich fleeced flocke. 

Their horned fronts so fierce on either side 

Do meete, that with the terrour of the shocke 

Astonied both, stand sencelesse as a blocke, 140 

Forgetfull of the hanging victory : ° 

So stood these twaine, unmoved as a rocke, 

Both staring fierce, and holding idely 
The broken reliques° of their former cruelty. 

XVII 

The Sarazin sore daunted with the buff'e 145 

Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to him flies ; 
Who well it wards, and quyteth cufl' with cuff : 
Each others equall puissaunce en vies, ° 
And through their iron sides° with cruell spies 
Does seeke to perce : repining courage yields 150 

No foote to foe. The flashing fier flies 
As from a forge out of their burning shields, 

And streams of purple bloud new dies the verdant fields. 



38 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 

Curse on that Crosse (quoth then the Sarazin), 

That keepes thy body from the bitter fit ; ° 155 

Dead long ygoe I wote thou haddest bin, 

Had not that charnie from thee for warned it : 

But yet I warne thee now assured sitt,° 

And hide thy head. Therewith upon his crest 

With rigour so outrageous^ he smitt, IGO 

That a large share° it liewd out of the rest, 

And glauncing down his shield from blame him fairly blest.° 

XIX 

Who thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark 
Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive. 
And at his haughtie helmet making mark, 1G5 

So hugely stroke, that it the Steele did rive, 
And cleft his head. He tumbling downe alive, 
With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis. 
Greeting his grave : his grudging° ghost did strive 
With the fraile flesh ; at last it flitted is, 170 

Whither the soules do fly of men that live amis. 

XX 

The Lady when she saw her champion fall, 

Like the old mines of a broken towre. 

Staid not to waile his woefull funerall. 

But from him fled away with all her powre ; 175 

Who after her as hastily gan scowre, 

Bidding the Dwarfe with him to bring away 

The Sarazins shield, signe of the conqueroure. 

Her soone he overtooke, and bad to stay. 
For present cause was none af dread her to dismay. 180 



CANTO II 39 



XXI 



She turning backe with rueful! countenaunce, 
Cride, Mercy mercy Sir vouchsafe to show 
On silly Dame, subject to hard mischaunce, 
And to your mighty will. Her humblesse low 
In so ritch weedes and seeming glorious show, 185 

Did much emmove his stout heroicke heart, 
And said, Deare dame, your suddin overthrow 
Much rueth me ; but now put feare apart. 

And tell, both who ye be, and who that tooke your part. 

XXII 

Melting in teares, then gan she thus lament ; 190 

The wretched woman, whom unhappy howre 
Hath now made thrall to your commandement, 
Before that angry heavens list to lowre, 
And fortune false betraide me to your powre, 
Was, (0 what now availeth that I was !) 195 

Borne the sole daughter of an Emperour,° 
He that the wide West under his rule has, 

And high hath set his throne, where Tiberis doth pas. 

XXIII 

He in the first flowre of my freshest age. 

Betrothed me unto the onely haire° 200 

Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage ; 

Was never Prince so faith full and so faire, 

Was never Prince so meeke and debonaire ; 

But ere my hoped day of spousall shone. 

My dearest Lord fell from high honours staire 205 

Into the hands of his accursed fone, 
And cruelly was slaine, that shall I ever mone. 



40 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXIV 



His blessed body spoild of lively breath, 

Was afterward, I know not how, convaid 

And fro me hid : of whose most innocent death 210 

When tidings came to me, unhappy maid, 

how great sorrow my sad sovde assaid. 

Then forth I went his woefull corse to find, 

And many yeares throughout the world I straid, 

A virgin widow, whose deepe wounded mind 215 

With love long time did languish as the striken hind. 

XXV 

At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin 

To meete me wandring, who perforce me led 

With him away, but yet could never win 

The Fort, that Ladies hold in soveraigne dread ; 220 

There lies he now with foule dishonour dead. 

Who whiles he livde, was called proud Sansfoy, 

The eldest of three brethren, all three bred 

Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansjoy ; 

And twixt them both was born the bloudy bold Sansloy. 225 

XXVI 

In this sad plight, friendlesse, unfortunate, 

Now miserable I Fidessa dwell, 

Craving of you in pitty of my state, 

To do none ill, if please ye not do well. 

He in great passion all this while did dwell, 230 

More busying his quicke eyes, her face to view. 

Then his dull eares, to heare what she did tell ; 

And said, Faire Lady hart of flint would rew 
The undeserved woes and sorrowes which ye shew. 



CANTO II 41 

XXVII 

Henceforth in safe assuraimce may ye rest, 235 

Having both found a new friend you to aid, 
And lost an old foe that did you molest : 
Better new friend then an old foe is said. 
With chaunge of cheare the seeming simple maid 
Let fall her eyen, as shamefast to the earth, 240 

And yeelding soft, in that she nought gain-said. 
So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth, 

And she coy lookes : so dainty they say maketh derth.° 

XXVIII 

Long time they thus together travelled. 

Till weary of their way, they came at last 245 

Where grew two goodly trees, that fj^ire did spred 

Their armes abroad, with gray mosse overcast. 

And their greene leaves trembling with every blast, 

Made a calme shadow far in compasse round : 

The fearfuU Shepheard often there aghast 250 

Under them never sat, ne wont there sound° 

His mery oaten pipe, but shund th' unlucky ground. 

XXIX 

But this good knight soone as he them can spie, 

For the cool shade° him thither hastly got : 

For golden Phoebus now ymounted hie, 255 

From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot 

Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot, 

That living creature mote it not abide ; 

And his new Lady it endured not. 

There they alight, in hope themselves to hide 260 

From the fi.erce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. 



42 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXX 

Faire seemely pleasaimce° each to other makes, 

With goodly purposes" there as they sit : 

And in his falsed fancy he her takes 

To be the fairest wight that lived yit ; 265 

Which to expresse he bends his gentle wit, 

And thinking of those braunches greene to frame 

A girlond for her dainty forehead fit, 

He pluckt a bough ;° out of whose rift there came 
Small drops of gory bloud, tliat trickled down the same. 270 

XXXI 

Therewith a piteous yelling voyce was heard. 
Crying, spare with guilty hands° to teare 
My tender sides jn this rough rynd embard. 
But fly, ah fly far hence away, for feare 
Least to you hap, that happened to me heare, 275 

And to this wretched Lady, my deare love, 
too deare love, love bought with death too deare. 
Astond he stood, and up his haire did hove ; 

And with that suddein horror could no member move. 

XXXII 

At last whenas the dreadfull passion 280 

Was overpast, and manhood well awake, 
Yet musing at the straunge occasion. 
And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake ; 
What voyce of damned Ghost from Limbo lake,° 
Or guilefuU spright wandring in empty aire, 285 

Both which fraile men do oftentimes mistake. 
Sends to my doubtfull eares these speaches rare. 

And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse bloud to spare 1 



CANTO II 43 

XXXIII 

Then groning deepe, Nor damned Ghost, (quoth he,) 

Nor guileful sprite to thee these wordes doth speake, 290 

But once a man Fradubio,° now a tree, 

Wretched man, wretched tree ; whose nature weake 

A cruell witch her cursed will to wreake, 

Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines. 

Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake, 295 

And scorching Sunne does dry my secret vaines : 

For though a tree I seeme, yet cold and heat me paines. 

XXXIV 

Say on Fradubio then, or man, or tree, 

Quoth then the knight, by whose mischievous arts 

Art thou misshaped thus, as now I »ee ? 300 

He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts ; 

But double griefs afflict concealing harts, 

As raging flames who striveth to suppresse. 

The author then (said he) of ^11 my smarts. 

Is one Duessa a false sorceresse, 305 

That many errant knights hath brought to wretchednesse. 

XXXV 

In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hot 

The fire of love and joy of chevalree 

First kindled in my brest, it was my lot 

To love this gentle Lady, whom ye see, 310 

Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree ; 

With whom as once I rode accompanyde. 

Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee, * 

That had a like faire I^ady by his syde, 
Like a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde. 315 



44 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXVI 

Whose forged beauty he did take in hand, 

All other Dames to have exceeded farre ; 

I in defence of mine did likewise stand, 

Mine, that did then shine as the Morning starre. 

So both to battell fierce arraunged arre, 320 

In which his harder fortune was to fall 

Under my speare : such is the dye of warre : 

His Lady left as a prise martiall, 
Did yield her comely person to be at my call. 

XXXVII 

So doubly lov'd of Ladies unlike faire, 325 

Th' one seeming such, the other such indeede, 

One day in doubt I cast for to compare. 

Whether in beauties glorie did exceede ; 

A Rosy girlond was the victors meede : 

Both seemde to win, and both seemde won to bee, 330 

So hard the discord was to be agreede. 

Fraelissa was as faire, as faire mote bee. 
And ever false Duessa seemde as faire as shee. 

XXXVIII 

The wicked witch now seeing all this while 

The doubtfuU ballaunce equally to sway, 335 

What not by right, she cast to win by guile. 

And by her hellish science raisd streightway 

A foggy mist, that overcast the day. 

And a dull blast, that breathing on her face, 

Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, 340 

And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace : 

Then was she faire alone, when none was faire in place. 



CANTO II 45 

XXXIX 

Then cride she out, Fye, fye, deformed wight, 
Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine 
To have before bewitched all mens sight ; 345 

leave her soone, or let her soone be slaine. 
Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine, 
Eftsoones I thought her such, as she me told, 
And would have kild her ; but with faigned paine 

The false witch did my wrathfull hand with-hold ; 350 

So left her, where she now is turiid to treen mould. ° 

XL 

Then forth I tooke Duessa for my Dame, 
And in the witch unweeting joyd long time, 
Ne ever wist but that she was the same,° 
Till on a day (that day is every Prime, 355 

When Witches wont do penance for their crime) 

1 chaunst to see her in her proper hew,° 
Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme : 
A filthy foule old woman I did vew. 

That ever to have toucht her I did deadly rew. 360 

XLI 

Her neather parts misshapen, monstruous, 

Were hidd in water, that I could not see. 

But they did seeme more foule and hideous. 

Then womans shape man would beleeve to bee. 

Thensforth from her most beastly companie 365 

I gan refraine, in minde to slip away, 

Soone as appeard safe opportunitie : 

For danger great, if not assur'd decay, 
I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to stray. 



46 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLII 



The divelish hag by chaunges of my cheare° 370 

Perceiv'd my thought, and drownd in sleepie night, ° 
With wicked herbs and ointments did besmeare 
My body all, through charms and magicke might. 
That all my senses were bereaved quight : 
Then brought she me into this desert waste, 375 

And by my wretched lovers side me pight, 
Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste, 

Banisht from living wights, our wearie dayes we waste. 



XLIII 

But how long time, said then the Elfin knight. 

Are you in this misformed house to dwell ? 380 

We may not chaunge (quoth he) this evil plight, 

Till we be bathed in a living well; ° ■- * ..." j'-'^-^"^'^^ '\^ 

That is the terme prescribed by the spell. ^ ^J^^/^^*"*^-^ 

how, said he, mote I that well out find, 

That may restore you to your wonted well ? 385 

Time and suffised fates to former kynd 

Shall us restore, none else from hence may us unbynd. 



XLIV 

The false Duessa, now Fidessa hight, 

Heard how in vaine Fradubio did lament, 

And knew well all was true. But the good knight 390 

Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment. 

When all this speech the living tree had spent. 

The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground, 

That from the bloud he might be innocent. 

And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound : 395 

Then turning to his Lady, dead with feare her found. 



CANTO II 47 

XLV 

Her seeming dead he found with feigned feare, 
As all unweeting of that well she knew, 
And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare 
Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyelids blew 400 

And dimmed sight with pale and deadly hew 
At last she up gan lift : with trembling cheare 
Her up he tooke, too simple and too trew, 
And oft her kist. At length all passed feare, ° 

He set her on her steede, and forward forth did beare. 405 



48 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



CANTO III 

Forsaken Truth long seekes her love, 
and makes the Lyon mylde, 

Marres blind Devotions mart, andfals 
in hand of leachour vylde. 



Nought is there under heav'ns wide hollownesse, 
That moves more deare compassion of mind, 
Then beautie brought t' unworthy wretchednesse 
Through envies snares, or fortunes freakes unkind. 
I, whether lately through her brightnesse blind, 5 

Or through alleageance and fast fealtie. 
Which I do owe unto all woman kind, 
Feele my hart perst with so great agonie. 

When such I see, that all for pittie I could die. 

II 

And now it is empassioned so deepe, 10 

For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing, 
That my fraile eyes these lines with teares do steepe, 
To thinke how she through guilefull handeling. 
Though true as touch,° though daughter of a king, 
Though faire as ever living wight was faire, 15 

Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting. 
Is from her knight divorced in despaire. 

And her due loves° deriv'd to that vile witches share. 



CANTO III 49 

III 

Yet she most faithfull Ladie all this while 

Forsaken, wofull,. solitarie mayd 20 

Far from all peoples prease, as in exile, 

In wildernesse and wastfidl deserts strayd, 

To seeke her knight ; who subtilly betrayd 

Through that late vision, which th' Enchaunter wrought, 

Had her abandond. She of nought affray d, 25 

Through woods and wastnesse wide him daily sought ; 

Yet wished tydings° none of him unto her brought. 

IV 

One day nigh wearie of the yrkesome way, 

From her unhastie beast she did alight, 

And on the grasse her daintie limbes did lay 30 

In secret shadow, farre from all mens sight : 

From her faire head her fillet she undight, 

And laid her stole aside. Her angels face 

As the great eye of heaven° shyned bright, 

And made a sunshine in the shadie place ; 35 

Did never mortall eye behold such heavenly grace. 



It fortuned out of the thickest wood 

A ramping Lyon° rushed suddainly. 

Hunting fall greedy after salvage lalood ; 

Soone as the royall virgin he did spy, 40 

With gaping moutli at her ran greedily, 

To have attonce devourd her tender corse : 

But to the pray when as he drew more ny, 

His bloody rage asswaged with remorse, 
And with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse. 45 



60 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

VI 

In stead thereof he kist her wearie feet, 

And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong, 
As he her wronged innocence did weet, 
how can beautie maister the most strong, 
And simple trnth subdue avenging wrong 1 
Whose yeehled pride° and proud submission, 
Still dreading death, when she had marked long. 
Her hart gan melt in great compassion, 

And drizling teares did shed for pure aifection. 

VII 

The Lyon Lord of every beast in field, 

Quoth she, his princely puissance doth abate, 
And mightie proud to humble weake does yield, 
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late 
Him prickt, in pittie oif my sad estate : 
But he my Lyon, and my noble Lord, 
How does he find in cruell hart to hate. 
Her that him lov'd, and ever most adord, 

As the God of my life 1 why hath he me abhord ? 

VIII 

Redounding teares did choke th' end of her plaint, 
Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood ; 
And sad to see her sorrowfull constraint 
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood ; 
With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood. 
At last in close hart shutting up her paine. 
Arose the virgin- borne of heavenly brood. 
And to her snowy Palfrey got againe. 

To seeke her strayed Champion, if she might attaine. 



CANTO III 51 

IX 

Tlie Lyon would not leave her desolate, 

But with her went along, as a strong gard 

Of her chast person, and a faithfull mate 75 

Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard : 

Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward,° 

And when she wakt, he waited diligent, 

With humble service to her will prepard : 

From her faire eyes he tooke commaundement, 80 

And ever by her lookes conceived her intent. 



Long she thus travelled through deserts wyde. 

By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas, 

Yet never shew of living wight espyde ; 

Till that at length she found the troden gras, 85 

In which the tract of peoples footing was, 

Under the steepe foot of a mountaine hore ; 

The same she followes, till at last she has 

A damzell spyde° slow footing her before, 
That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. 90 

XI 

To whom approching she to her gan call, 

To weet, if dwelling place were nigh at hand ; 

But the rude wench her answerd nought at all ; 

She could not heare, nor speake, nor understand ; 

Till seeing by her side the Lyon stand, 95 

With suddaine feare her pitcher downe she threw. 

And fled away : for never in that land 

Face of faire Ladie she before did vew. 
And that dread Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew.° 



52 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XII 

Full fast she fled, ne nevei' lookt behynd, , ... 
As if her life upon the wager lay,° -^ - "^ "*" '"''" 
And home she came, whereas her mother blynd° 
Sate in eternall night : nought could she say, 
But suddaine catching hold, did her dismay 
With quaking hands, and other signes of feare ; 
Who full of ghastly fright and cold affray, 
Gan shut the dore. By this arrived there 

Dame Una, w^earie Dame, and entrance did requere. 

XIII 

Which when none yeelded, her unruly Page° 
With his rude claws the wicket open rent, 
And let her in ; where of his cruell rage 
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment, 
She found them both in darkesome corner pent ; 
Where that old woman day and night did pray 
Upon her beads devoutly penitent ; 
Nine hundred Pater nosters° every day, 

And thrise nine hundred Aves she was wont to say. 

XIV 

And to augment her painefuU pennance more, 
Thrise every weeke in ashes she did sit. 
And next her wrinkled skin rough sackcloth wore. 
And thrise three times did fast from any bit : 
But now for feare her beads she did forget. 
Whose needlesse dread for to remove away, 
Faire Una framed words and count'nance fit : 
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray. 

That in their cotage small that night she rest her may. 



CANTO 111 53 



XV 

The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night, 
When every creature shrowded is in sleepe ; 
Sad Una dowue her laies in wearie plight, 
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe : 130 

In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe 
For the late losse of lier deare loved knight. 
And sighes, and grones, and ever more does steepe 
Her tender brest in bitter teares all night, 

All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light. 135 

XVI 

Now when Aldeboran° was mounted hie 

Above the shynie Cassiopeias chaire,° 

And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lie. 

One knocked at the dore,° and in would fare ; 

He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware, 140 

That readie entrance was not at his call : 

For on his backe a heavy load he bare 

Of nightly stelths, and pillage severall, 
Which he had got abroad by purchase criminall. 

XVII 

He was, to weete, a stout and sturdy thiefe, 145 

Wont to robbe Churches of their ornaments, 
And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe. 
Which given was to them for good intents ; 
The holy Saints of their rich vestiments 
He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept, 150 

And spoild the Priests of their habiliments. 
Whiles none the holy things in safety kept ; 

Then he by conning sleights in at the window crept. 



54 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 



And all that he by right or wrong could find, 

Unto this house he brought, and did bestow 155 

Upon the daughter of this woman blind, 

Abessa, daughter of Corceca slow, 

With whom he whoredome usd, that few did know, 

And fed her fat with feast of offerings, 

And plentie, which in all the land did grow ; 160 

Ne spared he to give her gold and rings : 
And now he to her brought part of his stolen things. 

XIX 

Thus long the dore with rage and threats he bet, 
Yet of those fearfull women none durst rize, 
The Lyon frayed them, him in to let : 165 

He would no longer stay him to advize, ° 
But open breakes the dore in furious wize, 
And entring is ; when that disdainfuU beast 
Encountring fierce, him suddaine doth surprize. 
And seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest, 170 

Under his Lordly foot him proudly hath supprest. 

XX 

Him booteth not rejist,° nor succour call, 
His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand. 
Who streight him rent in thousand peeces small. 
And quite dismembred hath : the thirsty land 175 

Drunke up his life ; his corse left on the strand. 
His fearefull friends weare out the wofuU night, 
Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to understand 
The heavie hap, which on them is alight, 

Afl'raid, lea^t to tliemselves the like mishappen might. 180 



CANTO III bb 



XXI 



Now when broad day the world discovered has, 
Up Una rose, up rose the Lyon eke. 
And on their former journey forward pas, 
In wayes unknowne, her wandring knight to seeke, 
With paines farre passing that long wandring Greeke,° 185 
That for his love refused deitie ; 
Such were the labours of his Lady meeke. 
Still seeking him, that from her still did flie ; 

Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nie. 

XXII- 

Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twaine, 190 

That blind old woman and her daughter deare,° 
Came forth, and finding Kirkrapine there slaine, 
For anguish great they gan to rend their heare, 
And beat their brests, and naked flesh to teare. 
And when they both had wept and wayld their fill, 195 
Then forth they ran like two amazed deare, 
Halfe mad through malice, and revenging will. 

To follow her, that was the causer of their ill. 

XXIII 

Whom overtaking, they gan loudly bray, 

With hollow howling, and lamenting cry, 200 

Shamefully at her rayling all the way, 

And her accusing of dishonesty, 

That was the flowre of faith and chastity ; 

And still amidst her rayling, she did pray, 

That plagues, and mischiefs, and long misery 205 

Might fall on her, and follow all the way, , 
And that in endlesse error she might ever stray. 



56 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXIV 

But when she saw her prayers nought prevaile, 

She backe returned with some labour lost ; 

And in the way as shee did weepe and waile, 210 

A knight her met in mighty armes embost, 

Yet knight was not for all his bragging host, 

But subtill Archimag, that Una sought 

By traynes into new troubles to have tost : 

Of that old woman tidings he besought, 215 

If that of such a Ladie she could tellen ought. 

XXV 

Therewith she gan her passion to renew, 

And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare, 

Saying, that harlot she too lately knew, 

That caused her shed so many a bitter teare, 220 

And so fortli told the story of her feare : 

Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce, 

And after for that Ladie did inquere ; 

Which being taught, he forward gan advaunce 
His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce. 225 

XXVI 

Ere long he came where Una traveild slow, 

And that wilde Champion wayting her besyde : 

Whom seeing such, for dread he durst not show 

Himselfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde 

Unto an hill ; from whence when she him spyde, 230 

By his like seeming shield, her knight by name 

She weend it was, and towards him gan ryde : 

Approaching nigh, she wist it was the same. 

And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee came : , 



CANTO III 57 

XXVII 

And weeping said, Ah my long lacked Lord, 235 

Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight ? 
Much feared I to have bene quite abhord, 
Or ought have done,° that ye displeasen might. 
That should as death° unto my deare heart light : 
For since mine eye your joyous sight did mis, 240 

My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night, 
And eke my night of death the shadow is ; 

But welcome now my light, and shining lampe of blis. 

XXVIII 

He thereto meeting said. My dearest Dame, 

Farre be it from your thought, and fro my will, 245 

To thinke that knighthood I so much should shame, 

As you to leave, that have me loved still. 

And chose in Faery court° of meere goodwill, 

Where noblest knights were to be found on earth : 

The earth shall sooner leave her kindly skill, ° 250 

To bring forth fruit, and make eternal! derth. 

Then I leave you, my liefe, yborne of heavenly berth. 

XXIX 

And sooth to say, why I left you so long. 
Was for to seeke adventure in strange place. 
Where Archimago said a felon strong 255 

To many knights did daily worke disgrace ; 
But knight he now shall never more deface : 
Good cause of mine excuse ; that mote ye please 
Well to accept, and evermore embrace 
My faithfuU service, that by land and seas 260 

Have vowd you to defend : now then your plaint appease. 



58 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXX 

His lovely words her seemd due recompence 
Of all her passed paines : one loving howre 
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence : 
A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sowre : ^ 265 

She has forgot, how many a woful stowre 
For him she late endurd ; she speakes no more 
Of past : true is, that true love hath no powre 
To looken backe ; his eyes be fixt before. 

Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore. 270 

XXXI 

Much like, as when the beaten marinere, 
That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide, 
Oft soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare. 
And long time having tand his tawney hide 
With blustring breath of heaven, that none can bide, 275 
And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound, ° 
Soone as the port from farre he has espide, 
His chearefull whistle merrily doth sound, 

And Nereus crownes with cups° ; his mates him pledg around. 

XXXII 

Such joy made Una, when her knight she found ; 280 

And eke th' enchaunter joyous seemd no lesse. 
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground° 
His ship farre come from watrie wildernesse, 
He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse : 
So forth they past, and all the way they spent 285 

Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse, 
In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment : 

Who tohl her all that fell in journey as she went. 



CANTO III 59 



XXXIII 



They had not ridden farre, when they might see 

One pricking towards them with hastie heat, 290 

Full strongly armd, and on a courser free, 

That through his fiercenesse fomed all with sweat, 

And the sharpe yron did for anger eat, 

When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side ; 

His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat 295 

Cruell revenge, which he in hart did hyde. 

And on his shield Sans loy° in bloudie lines was dyde. 

XXXIV 

When nigh he drew unto this gentle payre 

And saw the Red-erosse, which the knight did beare, 

He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepare 300 

Himselfe to battell with his coui^hed speare. 

Loth was that other, and did faint through feare, 

To taste th' untryed dint of deadly Steele ; 

But yet his Lady did so well him cheare, 

That hope of new goodhap he gan to feele ; 305 

So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele. 

XXXV 

But that proud Paynim forward came so fierce, 

And full of wrath, that with his sharp-head speare. 

Through vainly crossed shiekr he quite did pierce, 

And had his staggerhig steede not shrunke for feare, 310 

Through shield and bodie eke he should him beare : 

Yet so great was the puissance of his push. 

That from his saddle quite he did him beare : 

He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush, 

And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush. 315 



60 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXVI 

Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed, 
He to him lept, in mind to reave his life, 
And proudly said, Lo there the worthie meed 
Of him that slew Sansfoy with bloudie knife ; 
Henceforth his ghost freed from repining strife,, 320 

In peace may passen over Lethe lake,° 
When mourning altars purgd with enemies life^y 
The blacke infernall Furies° doen aslake : 

Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sansloy shall from thee take. 

XXXVII 

Therewith in haste his helmet gan unlace, ° 325 

Till Una cried, hold that heavie hand, 
Deare Sir, what ever that thou be in place : 
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand 
Now at thy mercy : Mercie not withstand : 
For he is one the truest knight alive, 330 

Though conquered now he lie on lowly land. 
And whilest him fortune favourd, faire did thrive 

In bloudie field : therefore of life him not deprive. 

XXXVIII 

Her piteous words might not abate his rage, 

But rudely rending up his helmet, would 335 

Have slaine him straight : but when he sees his age. 

And hoarie head of Archimago old. 

His hasty hand he doth amazed hold. 

And halfe ashamed, wondred at the sight : 

For that old man well knew he, though untold, 340 

In charmes and magicke to have wondrous might, 
Ne ever wont in field, ° ne in round lists to fight ; 



CANTO III 61 



XXXIX 



And said, Why Archimago, lucklesse syre, 

What doe I see? what hard mishap is this, 

That hath thee hither brought to taste mine yre ? 345 

Or thine the favilt, or mine the error is, 

Instead of foe to wound my friend amis ? 

He answered nought, but in a traunce still lay. 

And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his 

The cloude of death did sit. Which doen away, 350 

He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay : 

XL 

But to the virgin comes, who all this while 

Amased stands, her selfe so mockt to see 

By him, who has the guerdon of his guile, 

For so misfeigning her true knight to bee : 355 

Yet is she now in more perplexitie. 

Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold, 

From whom her booteth not at all to flie ; 

Who, by her cleanly garment catching hold. 
Her from her Palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold. 360 

XLI 

But her fierce servant, full of kingly awe 

And high disdaine, whenas his soveraine Dame 

So rudely handled by her foe he sawe. 

With gaping jawes full greedy at him came. 

And ramping on his shield, did weene the same 365 

Have reft away with his sharpe rending clawes : 

But he was stout, and lust did now inflame 

His corage more, that from his griping pawes 

He hath his shield redeemed, and foorth his swerd he dravv^es. 



62 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XLII 

then too weake and feeble was the forse 370 

Of salvage beast, his puissance to withstand : 
For he was strong, and of so mightie corse, 
As ever wielded speare in warlike hand, 
And feates of amies did wisely understand. 
Eftsoones he perced through his chaufed chest 375 

With thrilling point of deadly yrou brand. 
And launch t his Lordly hart : with death opprest 

He roar'd aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubborne brest. 



XLIII 

Who now is left to keepe the forlorne maid 

From raging spoile of lawlesse victors will ? 380 

Her faithfull gard remov'd, her hope dismaid, 

Her selfe a yielded pray to save or spill. 

He now Lord of the field, his pride to fill, 

With foule reproches, and disdainfuU spight 

Her vildly entertaines, and will or nill, 385 

Beares her away upon his courser light : 

Her prayers, nought prevaile, his rage is more of might. 

XLIV 

And all the way, with great lamenting paine, 
And piteous plaints she filleth his dull eares. 
That stony hart could riven have in twaine, 390 

And all the way she wets with flowing teares : 
But he enrag'd with rancor, nothing heares. 
Her servile beast yet would not leave her so, 
But followes her farre off, ne ought he feares, 
To be partaker of her wandring woe, 395 

More mild in beastly kind, then that her beastly foe. 



CANTO IV 63 



CANTO IV 

To sinfull house of Pride, Duessa 

guides the faithfull knight, 
Where brother's death to ivreak Sansjoy 

doth chalenge him to fight. 

I 

Young knight whatever that dost armes professe, 
And through long labours huntest after fame, 
Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse. 
In choice, and change of thy deare loved Dame, 
Least thou of her beleeve too lightly blame, 
And rash misweening doe thy hart remove : 
For unto knight there is no greater shame, 
Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love ; 

That doth this Redcrosse knights ensample plainly prove. 



Who after that he had faire Una lome, . 10 

Through light misdeeming of her loialtie. 

And false Duessa in her sted had borne, 

Called Fidess', and so supposd to bee ; 

Long with her traveild, till at last they see 

A goodly building, bravely garnished, 15 

The house of mightie Prince it seemd to bee : 

And towards it a Inroad high way that led. 
All bare through peoples feet, which thither travelled. 



64 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



III 

Great troupes of people traveild thitherward 

Both day and night, of each degree and place, ° 20 

But few returned, having scaped hard,° 

With balefull beggerie, or foule disgrace ; 

Which ever after in most wretched case. 

Like loathsome lazars,° by the hedges lay. 

Thither Duessa bad him bend his pace : 25 

For she is wearie of the toilesome way, 
And also nigh consumed is the lingring day. 

IV 

A stately Pallace built of squared bricke, 

Which cunningly was without morter laid. 

Whose wals wei'e high, but nothing strong, nor thick, 30 

And golden foile all over them displaid, 

That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid : 

High lifted up were many loftie towres, 

And goodly galleries farre over laid, 

Full of faire windowes and delightful bowres ; 35 

And on the top a Diall told the timely howres. 



It was a goodly heape for to behould, 

And spake the praises of the workmans wit ; 

But full great pittie, that so faire a mould 

Did on so weake foundation ever sit : 40 

For on a sandie hill, that still did flit 

And fall away, it mounted was full hie. 

That every breath of heaven shaked it : 

And all the hinder parts, that few could spie, 
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. 45 



CANTO IV Q^ 

VI 

Arrived there, they passed in forth right ; 

For still to all the gates stood open wide : 

Yet charge of them was to a Porter hight 

Cald Malvenii,° who entrance none denide : 

Thence to the hall, which was on every side 50 

With rich array and costly arras dight : 

Infinite sorts of people did abide 

There waiting long, to win the wished sight 
Of her that was the Lady of that Pallace bright. 

VII 

By them they passe, all gazing on them round, 55 

And to the Presence mount ; whose glorious vew 

Their frayle amazed senses did confound : 

In living Princes court none ever knew 

Such endlesse richesse, and so sumptuous shew ; 

Ne Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride 60 

Like ever saw. And there a noble crew 

Of Lordes and Ladies stood on every side. 
Which with their presence faire the place much beautifide. 

VIII 

High above all a cloth of State was spred, 

And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day, 65 

On which there sate most brave embellished 

With royall robes and gorgeous array, 

A mayden Queene, that shone as Titans ray. 

In glistring gold, and peerelesse pretious stone : 

Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay 70 

To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne, 

As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone. 



66 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

IX 

Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fairest childe,° 
That did presume his fathers firie wayne, 
And flaming mouthes of steedes unwonted wilde 75 

Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne ; 
Proud of such glory and advancement vaine, 
While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen, 
He leaves the welkin way most beaten plaine, 
And rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen, 80 

With fire not made to burne, but fairely for to shyne. 



So proud she shyned in her Princely state, 

Looking to heaven ; for earth she did disdayne : 

And sitting high ; for lowly she did hate : 

Lo underneath her scornefuU feete was layne 85 

A dreadfull Dragon° with an hideous trayne. 

And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright, 

Wherein her face she often vewed fayne, 

And in her selfe-lov'd semblance tooke delight ; 

For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight. 90 

XI 

Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was. 

And sad Proserpina the Queene of hell ; 

Yet did she thinke her pearlesse worth to pas 

That parentage, ° with pride so did she swell ; 

And thundring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell, 95 

And wield the world, she claymed for her syre, 

Or if that any else did Jove excell : 

For to the highest she did still aspyre, 
Or if ought higher were then that, did it desyre. 



CANTO IV 67 



And proud Lucifera men did her call, 100 

That made her selfe a Queene, and crownd to be, 

Yet rightful! kingdome she had none at all, 

Ne heritage of native soveraintie, 

But did usurpe with wrong and tyrannie 

Upon the scepter, which she now did hold : 105 

Ne ruld her Realmes with lawes, but pollicie, 

And strong advizement of six wisards old,° 
That with their counsels bad her kingdome did uphold. 

xin 

Soone as the Elfin knight in presence came, 

And false Duessa seeming Lady faife, 110 

A gentle Husher, Vanitie by name 

Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire : 

So goodly brought them to the lowest staire 

Of her high throne, where they on humble knee 

Making obeyssance, did the cause declare, 115 

Why they were come, her royall state to see, 

To prove the wide report of her great Majestee. 

XIV 

With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so low. 
She thanked them in her disdainefull wise ; 
Ne other grace vouchsafed them to show 120 

Of Princesse worthy, scarse them bad arise. 
Her Lordes and Ladies all this while devise 
Themselves to setten forth to straungers sight : 
Some frounce their curled ha ire in courtly guise. 
Some prancke their niffes, and others trimly dight 125 

Their gay attire : each others greater pride does spight. 



6S THE FAERIE QUE E ME 



XV 

Goodly they all that knight do entertaiiie, 

Right glad with him to have increast their crew : 

But to Duess' each one himselfe did paine 

All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew ; 130 

For in that court whylome her well they knew : 

Yet the stout Faerie mongst the middest crowd 

Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew, 

And that great Princesse too exceeding prowd, 

That to strange knight no better countenance allowd. 135 

XVI 

Suddein upriseth from her stately place 

The royall Dame, and for her coclie did call : 
All hurtlen forth, and she with Princely pace, 
As faire Aurora in her purple pall, 

• Out of the east the dawning day doth call : 140 

So forth she comes : her brightnesse brode doth blaze ; 
The heapes of people thronging in the hall, 
Do ride each other, upon her to gaze : 

Her glorious glitterand light doth all mens eyes amaze. 

XVII 

So forth she comes, and to her coche° does clyme, 145 

Adorned all with gold, and girlonds gay, 
That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime. 
And strove to match, in royall rich array, 
Great Junoes golden chaire, the which they say 
The Gods stand gazing on, when she does ride 150 

To Joves high house through heavens bras-paved way 
Drawne of faire Pecocks, that excell in pride, ♦ 

And full of Argus eyes their tailes dispredden wide. 



CANTO IV 69 

XVIII 

But this was dniwiie of six iiiieqiiall beasts, 

On which lier six sage Coiniselloiirs did ryde, 155 

Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts, 

With Hke conditions° to their kinds applyde : 

Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde, 

Was sluggish Idleiiesse the iiourse of sin ; i 

Upon a slouthful Asse he chose to ryde, 160 

Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin, 

Like to an holy Monck, the service to begin. 

XIX 

And in his hand his Portesse still he bare, 
That much was worne, but therein little red. 
For of devotion he had little care, 165 

Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his dayes ded ; 
Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hed. 
To lookeu, whether it were night or day : 
May seeme the wayne was very evill led, 
When such an one had guiding of the way, 170 

That knew not, whether right he went, or else astray. 

XX 

From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne, 

And greatly shunned manly exercise, « 

From every worke he chalenged essoyne,° 

For contemplation sake : yet otherwise, 175 

His life he led in lawlesse riotise ; 

By which he grew to gi'ievous malady ; 

For in his lustlesse limbs through evill guise, 

A shaking fever raignd continually : 
Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 180 



70 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXI 

And by his side rode loathsome Ghittony, *- 
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne ; 
His belly was up-blowne with luxury, 
And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne. 
And like a Crane° his necke was long and fyne, 
With which he swallowed up excessive feast, 
For want whereof poore people oft did pytie ; 
And all the way, most like a brutish beast, 

He spued up his gorge, that all did him deteast. 

XXII 

In greene vine leaves he was right fitly clad ; 
For other clothes he could not weare for heat, 
And on his head an yvie girland had. 
From under which fast trickled downe the sweat 
Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat, 
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can. 
Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat 
His dronken corse he scarse upholden can. 

In shape and life more like a monster, then a man. 

XXIII 

Unfit he was for any worldly thing, 
And eke unhable once to stirre or go, 
Not meet to be of counsell to a king. 
Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so. 
That from his friend he seldome knew his fo : 
Full of diseases was his carcas blew. 
And a dry dropsie° through his flesh did flow : 
Which by misdiet daily greater grew : 

Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew. 



CANTO IV 71 



XXIV 



And next to him rode lustful! Lechery, 

Upon a bearded Goat, whose rugged haire. 

And whally eyes (the signe of gelosy), 210 

Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare : 

Who rough, and blaoke, and filthy did appeare, 

Unseemely man to please faire Ladies eye ; 

Yet he of Ladies oft was loved deare. 

When fairer feces were bid standen by : 215 

who does know the bent of womens fantasy 1 

» XXV 

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire, 

Which underneath did hide his filth inesse. 

And in his hand a burning hart he bare, 

Full of vaine follies, and new fanglenesse, 220 

For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse ; 

And learned had to love with secret lookes ; 

And well could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse,' 

And fortunes tell, and read in loving bookes. 
And thousand other wayes, to bait his fleshly hookes. 225 

XXVI 

Inconstant man, that loved all lie saw, 
And lusted after all that he did love ; 
Ne would his looser life be tide to law, 
But joyd weak wemens hearts to tempt and prove. 
If from their loyall loves he might them move ; 230 

Which lewdnesse fild him with reprochfull paine 
Of that fowle evill, which all men reprove, 
That rots the marrow and consumes the braine : 

Such one was Lecherie, the third of all this traine. 



72 THE FAERIE QUE EXE 



XXVII 



And greedy Avarice by him did ride, 235 

Upon a Cameir loaden all with gold ; 

Two iron coffers hong on either side, 

With precious mettall full as they might hold ; 

And in his lap an heape of coine he tokl ; 

For of his wicked pelfe his God he made, 240 

And unto hell him selfe for money sold ; 

Accursed usurie was all his trade. 
And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide. 

XXVIII 

His life was nigh unto deaths doore yplast. 

And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware, 245 

Ne scarse good morsell all his life did tast, 

But both from backe and belly still did spare, 

To fill his bags, and richesse to compare ; 

Yet chylde ne kinsman living had he none 

To leave them to ; but thorough daily care 250 

To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne, 
He led a wretched life unto him selfe unknowne.° 

XXIX 

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise, 
Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store. 
Whose need had end, but no end covetise, 255 

Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him pore, 
Who had enough, yet wished ever more ; 
A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand 
A grievous gout tormented him full sore, 
That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand ; 260 

Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this foire band. 



CANTO IV 73 



And next to him malicious Envie rode, 
Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw 
Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode, 
That all the poisoii ran about his chaw ; 265 

But inwardly he chawed his owne maw 
At neighbours wealth, that made him ever sad ; 
For death it was when any good he saw. 
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had, 

But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad. 270 

XXXI 

All in a kirtle of discolourd say 

He clothed was, ypainted full of eyes ; 

And in his bosome secretly there lay 

An hatefull Snake, the which his taile uptyes 

In many folds, and mortall sting implyes. 275 

Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see 

Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse ; 

And grudged at the great felicitie 

Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companie. 

XXXII 

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 280 

And him no lesse, that any like did use. 
And who with gi'acious bread the hungry feeds. 
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse ; 
So every good to bad he doth abuse : 
And eke the verse of famous Poets witt 285 

He does backebite, and spightfuU poison spues 
From leprous mouth on all that ever writt : 

Such one vile Envie was, that fifte in row did sitt. 



74 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIII 



And bim beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, 

Upon a Lion, loth for to be led ; 290 

And in his hand a burning brond he hath, 

The which he brandisheth about his hed ; 

His eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red. 

And stared sterne on all that him beheld. 

As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded ; 295 

And on his dagger still his hand he held, 
Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld. 

XXXIV 

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood. 

Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent, 

Tiirough unadvized rashnesse woxen wood ; 300 

For of his hands he had no governement, 

Ne car'd for bloud in his avengement : 

But when the furious fit was overpast. 

His cruell facts he often would repent ; 

Yet wilfull man he never would forecast, 305 

How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast. 

XXXV 

Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath ; 

AbhoiTed bloodshed and tumultuous strife. 

Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath,° 

Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, 310 

And fretting griefe the enemy of life ; 

All these, and many evils moe haunt ire, 

The swelling Splene,° and Frenzy raging rife. 

The shaking Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire :° 
Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 315 



CANTO IV 75 



XXXVI 



And after all, upon the wagon beame 

Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand, 

With which he forward lasht the laesie teme, 

So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand. 

Hugh routs of people did about them band, 320 

Showting for joy, and still before their way 

A foggy mist had covered all the land ; 

And underneath their feet, all scattered lay 

Dead sculs and bones of men, whose life had gone astray. 

XXXVII 

So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, 325 

To take the solace of the open aire, 
And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport ; 
Emongst the rest rode that false Lady faire. 
The foule Duessa, next unto the chaire 
Of proud Lucifera, as one of the traine : 330 

But that good knight would not so nigh repaire. 
Him selfe estraunging from their joyaunce vaine. 

Whose fellowship seemd far unfit for warlike swaine. 

XXXVIII 

So liaving solaced themselves a space 

With pleasaunce° of the l:)reathing fields yfed, 335 

They backe retourned to the Princely Place ; 

Whereas an errant knight in amies ycled, 

And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red 

Was writ Sans joy, they new arrived find : 

Enflara'd with fury and fiers hardy-hed 340 

He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind, 

And nourish bloudy vengeaunce in his bitter mind. 



76 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIX 

Who when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy 
He spide with that same Faeiy champions page, 
Bewraying him, that did of late destroy • 345 

His eldest brother, burning all with rage 
He to him leapt, and that same envious gage 
Of victors glory from him snatcht away : 
But th' Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage 
Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray, 350 

And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray. 

XL 

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily, 

Kedoubted battaile ready to darrayne. 

And clash their shields, and shake their swords on by. 

That with their sturre they troubled all the traine ; 355 

Till that great Queene upon eternall paine 

Of high displeasure that ensewen might, 

Commaunded them their fury to refraine, 

And if that either to that shield had right. 
In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight. 360 

XLI 

Ah dearest Dame, (quoth then the Paynim bold,) 
Pardon the error of enraged wight. 
Whom great griefe made forget the raines to hold 
Of reasons rule, to see this recreant knight. 
No knight, but treachour full of false despight 365 

And shamefull treason, who through guile hath slayn 
The pro west knight that ever field did fight, 
Even stout Sansfoy (0 who can then refrayn T) 

Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heape disdayn. 



CANTO IV 77 



XLII 



And to augment the glorie of his guile, 370 

His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe 

Is there j^ossessed of the traytour vile, 

Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe, 

Sowen in bloudy field, and bought with woe : 

That brothers hand shall dearely well requight, 375 

So be, O Queene, you equall favour showe. 

Him litle answerd th' angry Elfin knight ; 
He never meant with words, but swords to plead his right. 

XLIII 

But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledge, 

His cause in combat the next day to try : 380 

So been they parted both, with harts on edge 

To be aveng'd each on his enimy. 

That night they pas in joy and jollity. 

Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall ; 

For Steward was excessive Gluttonie, 385 

That of his plenty poured forth to all ; 
Which doen, the Chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call. 

XLIV 

Now whenas darkesome night had all displayed . 

Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye. 

The warlike youthes on dayntie couches layd, 390 

Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye. 

To muse on meanes of hoped victory. 

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace 

Arrested all that courtly company. 

Up-rose Duessa from her resting place, 395 

And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace. 



78 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLV 

Whom broad awake she finds, in troublous fit, 
Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy. 
And him amoves with speaches seeming fit : 
Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy, 400 

Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy, 
Joyous, to see his ymage in mine eye. 
And greev'd, to thinke how foe did him destroy. 
That was the flowre of grace and chevahye ; 

Lo his Fidessa to thy secret faith I f!ye. 405 

XLVI 

With gentle wordes he can her fairely greet, 
And bad say on the secret of her hart. 
Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweet 
Oft tempred is (quoth she) with muchell smart : 
For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart 410 

Of deare Sans foy, I never joyed howre, 
But in eternall woes my weaker hart 
Have wasted, loving him with all my powre. 

And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stovvre. 

XLVII 

At last when perils all I weened past, 415 

And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care. 
Into new woes unweeting I was cast. 
By this false faytor, who unworthy ware 
His worthy shield, whom he with guilefull snare 
Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave. 420 

Me silly maid away with nim he bare, 
And ever since hath kept in darksome cave. 

For that I would not yeeld, that to Sans foy I gave. 



CANTO IV 79 

xLviii ; 

But since faire Snnne hath sperst that lowring clowd, 

And to my loathed life now shewes some light, 425 j 

Under your beames I will me safely shrowd, | 

From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight : ; 

To you th' inheritance belongs by right \ 

Of l3rothers prayse, to you eke longs his love. 

Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright, 430 

Be unreveng'd, that calles to you above i 

From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse move. 

■ 

XLIX 

Tiiereto said he, Faire Dame, be nought dismaid j 

For sorrowes past ; their gviefe is with them gone : I 

Ne yet of present perill be affraid ; 435 \ 

For needlesse feare did never vantage none i 

And helplesse hap° it booteth not to mone. j 
Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past. 
Though greeved ghost for vengeance deepe do grone : 

He lives, that shall him pay his dewties last,° 440 < 

And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast. 1 



but I feare the fickle freakes (quoth sliee) 
Of fortune false, and oddes of armes° in field. 
Why Dame (quoth he) what oddes can ever bee, 

Where both do fight alike, to win or yield 1 445 

Yea but (quoth she) he beares a charmed shield, 
And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce, 
Ne none can wound the man that does them wield. 
Charmd or enchaunted (answerd he then ferce) 

1 no whit reck, ne you the like need to reherce. 450 



80 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LI 



But faire Fidessa, sithens fortunes guile, 

Or enimies powre, hath now captived you, 

Retunie from whence ye came, and rest a while 

Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew. 

And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you endew. 455 

Ay me, that is a double death (she said) 

With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew : 

Where ever yet I be, my secret aid 
Shall follow you. So passing forth she him obaid. 



CANTO V 81 I 



CANTO V 

The faithfull knight in equall field 
subdeioes his faithlesse foe , 

Whom false Duessa saves, and for 
his cure to hell does goe. 



The noble hart, that harbours vertuous thought, 

And is with child of glorious great intent, 

Can never rest, imtill it forth have brought 

Th' eternall brood of glorie excellent. 

Such restlesse passion did all night torment 5 

The flaming corage of that Faery knight. 

Devizing, how that dough tie turnament 

With greatest honour he atchieven might ; 
Still did he wake, and still did watch for dawning light. 

II 

At last the golden Orientall gate, 10 

Of greatest heaven gan to open faire. 
And Phoebus fresh, as bridegrome to his mate. 
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie haire : 
And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy aire. 
Which when the wakeful Elfe perceiv'd, streightway 15 
He started up, and did him selfe prepaire, 
In sunbright amies, and battailous array : 

For with that Pagan proud he combat will that day. 



82 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



And forth he comes into the commnne hall, 

Where earely waite him many a gazing eye, 20 

To weet what end to straunger knights may fall. 

There many Minstrales maken melody, 

To drive away tlie dull melancholy. 

And many Bardcs, that to the trembling chor<l 

Can tune their timely voyces° cunningly, 25 

And many Chroniclers that can record 

Old loves, ° and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord. 

IV 

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin, 

In woven maile° all armed warily. 

And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin 30 

Does care for looke of living creatures eye. 

They bring them wines of Greece and Araby,° 

And daintie spices fetcht from furthest Ynd,° 

To kindle heat of corage privily : 

And in the wine a solemne otli they bynd 35 

T' observe the sacred lawes of armes, that are assynd. 



At last forth comes that far renowmed Queene, 

With royall pomp and Princely majestic ; 

She is ybrought unto a paled greene,° 

And placed under stately canapee, 40 

The warlike feates of both those knights to see. 

On th' other side in all mens open vew 

Duessa placed is, and on a tree 

Sans-foy his° shield is hangd with bloody hew : 
Both those° the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew. 45 



CANTO V 83 



VI 

A shrilling trompet sownded from on hye, 
And unto battaill bad tbeni selves addresse : 
Their shining shieldes -about tlieir wrestes they tye, 
And burning blades about their heads do blesse, 
The instruments of wrath and heavinesse : 50 

With greedy force each other doth assayle, 
And strike so fiercely, that they do impresse 
Deepe dinted furrowes in the liattred mayle ; 

The yron walles to ward their blowes are weak and fraile. 

VII 

The Sarazin was stout, and wondrous strong, 55 

And heaped blowes like yron hammers great ; 
For after blond and vengeance he did long. 
The knight was fiers, and fall of youthly heat, 
And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat : 
For all for prayse and honour he did fight. GO 

Both stricken strike, and beaten both do beat, 
That from their shields forth flyeth firie light, 

And helmets hewen deepe show marks of eithers might. 

VIII 

So th' one for wrong, the other strives for right ; 

As when a Gryfon° seized of his pray, 65 

A Dragon fiers encountreth in his flight, 

Through widest ayre making his ydle way, 

That would his rightfull ravine rend awny ; 

With hideous horror both together smight, 

And souce so sore that they the heavens aff'ray : 70 

The wise Soothsayer seeing so sad sight, 
Th' amazed vulgar tels of warres and mortall fight. 



84 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

IX • • 

So th' one for wrong, the other strives for right, 
And each to deadly shame would drive his foe : 
The cruell Steele so greedily doih bight 75 

In tender flesh that streames of blond down flow, 
With which the armes, that earst so bright did show, 
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde : 
Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow, 
Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde, 80 

That victory they dare not wish to either side. 



At last the Paynim chaunst to cast his eye, 
His suddein eye, flaming with wrathful fyre, 
Upon his brothers shield, which hong thereby : 
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre, 85 

And said. Ah wretched sonne of wofull syre, 
Doest thou sit wayling by blacks Stygian lake, 
Whilest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre, 
And sluggish german° doest thy forces slake 

To after-send his foe, that him may overtake 1 90 

XI 

Goe caytive Elfe, him quickly overtake. 

And soone redeeme from his long wandring woe ; 

Goe guiltie ghost, to him my message make. 

That I his shield have quit from dying foe. 

Therewith upon his crest he stroke him so, 95 

That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall ; 

End of tlie doubtfull battell deemed tho 

The lookers on, and lowd to him gan call 
The false Duessa, Thine the shield, and I, and all. 



CANTO V 85 



XII 



Sooiie as the Faerie heard his Ladie speake,° 100 

Out of his swowiiiiig dreame he gaii awake, 
And quickning faith, that earst was woxen weake, 
The creeping deadly cokl away did shake : 
Tho mov'd with wrath, and shame, and Ladies sake. 
Of all attonce he cast avengd to bee, 105 

And with so' exceeding furie at him strake, 
That forced him to stoupe upon his knee ; 

Had he not stouped so, he should have cloven bee. 

XIII 

And to him said, Goe now proud Miscreant, 

Thy selfe thy message do to german deare ; 110 

Alone he wandring thee too long doth want : 

Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth l^eare. 

Therewith his heavie hand he high gan reare, 

Him to have slaine ; when loe a darkesome clowd° 

Upon him fell : he no where doth appeare, 115 

But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd, 

But answer none receives : the darkness him does shrowd. 

XIV 

In haste Duessa from her place arose. 

And to him running said, prowest knight, 

That ever Ladie to her love did chose, 120 

Let now abate the terror of your might. 

And quench the flame of furious despight. 

And bloudie vengeance ; lo th' infernall powres, 

Covering your foe with cloud of deadly night, 

Have borne him hence to Plutoes balefull bowres. 125 

The conquest yours, I yours, the shield, the glory yours. 



THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XV 



Not all so satisfide, with greedie eye 

He sought all round about, his thristie blade 

To bath in bloud of faithlesse enemy ; 

Who all that while lay hid in secret shade : 130 

He standes amazed, how he thence should fade. 

At last the trumpets Triumph sound on hie, 

And running Heralds humble homage made, 

Greeting him goodly with new victorie. 

And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmitie. 135 

XVI 

Wherewith he goeth to that soveraine Queene, 
And falling her before on lowly knee. 
To her makes present of his service scene : 
Which she accepts, with thankes, and goodly gree. 
Greatly advauncing his gay chevalree. 140 

So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight. 
Whom all the people follow with great glee. 
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight, 

That all the aire it fils, and flyes to heaven bright. 

XVII . 

Home is he brought, and laid in sumptuous bed ; 145 

Where many skilfidl leaches him al)i(le, 

To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly bled. 

In wine and oyle they wash his woundes wide. 

And softly can embalme on every side. 

And all the while, most heavenly melody 150 

About the bed sweet musicke did divide, 

Him to beguile of griefe and agony : 
And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly. 



CANTO V 87 



XVIII 

As when a wearie traveller tliat strayes 

By muddy shore of broad seven-mouthed Nile, 1^5 

Unweeting of the perillous wandring wayes, 

Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile, 

Which in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile, 

Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares :° 

The foolish man, that pitties all this while 160 

His mournefull plight, is swallowed up unawares, 

ForgetfuU of his owne, that mindes anothers cares. 

XIX 

So wept Duessa untill eventide, 

That shyning lampes in Joves high house were light : 

Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide, 165 

But comes unto the place, where th' Hethen knight 

In slombring swownd nigh voyd of vitall spright, 

Lay cover'd with inchaunted cloud all day : 

Whom when she found, as she him left in plight, 

To wayle his woefull case she would not stay, 170 

But to the easterne coast of heaven makes speedy way, 

XX 

Where griesly Night, ° with visage deadly sad. 

That Phoebus chearefuU face durst never vew, 

And in a foule blacke pitchie mantle clad. 

She findes forth comming from her darkesome mew, 175 

Where she all day did hide her hated hew. 

Before the dore her yron charet stood, 

Alreadie harnessed for journey new ; 

And coleblacke steedes yborne of hellish brood. 
That on their rustic bits did champ, as they were wood. 180 



88 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXI 

Who when she saw Duessa sunny bright, 
Adornd with gold and jewels shining cleare, 
She greatly grew amazed at the sight, 
And th' unacquainted light began to feare : 
For never did such brightnesse there appeare, 185 

And would have backe retyred to her cave, 
Until the witches speech she gan to heare, 
Saying, Yet, O thou dreaded Dame, I crave 

Abide, till I have told the messasre which I have. 



XXII 

She stayd, and foorth Duessa gan proceede 190 

thou most auncient Grandmother of all. 
More old then Jove, whom thou at first didst breede, 
Or that great house of Gods Ccelestiall, 
Which wast begot in Daemogorgons hall, 
And sawst the secrets of the world unmade, . 195 

Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall 
With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade ? 

Lo where the stout Sansjoy doth steepe in deadly shade. 

XXIII 

And him before, I saw with bitter eyes 

The bold Sansfoy shrinke underneath his speare ; 20(^ 

And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes, 

Nor way Id of friends, nor layd on groning beare,° 

That whylome was to me too dearely deare. 

what of Gods° then boots it to be borne, 

If old Aveugles sonnes so evill heare 1 205 

Or who shall not great Nightes children scorne, 

When two of three her Nephews are so fowle forlorne 1 



II 



CANTO V 



XXIV 



Up then, up dreary Dame, of darknesse Queene, 
Go gather up the reliques of thy race, 
Or else goe them avenge, and let be seene, 210 

Tliat dreaded Night in brightest day hath place, 
And can the children of faire light deface. 
Her feeling speeches some compassion moved 
In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face : 
Yet pittie in her hart was never proved 215 

Till then : for evermore she hated, never loved. 

XXV 

And said, Deare daughter rightly may I rew 
The fall of famous children borne of mee. 
And good successes, ° which their foes ensew : 
But who can turne the streame of destinee, 220 

Or breake the chayne° of strong necessitee. 
Which fast is tyde to Joves eternall seat 1 
The sonnes of Day he favoureth, I see. 
And by my mines thinkes to make them great : 

To make one great by others losse, is bad excheat.° 225 

XXVI 

Yet shall they not escape so freely all ; 

For some shall pay the price of others guilt : 

And he the man that made Sansfoy to fall, 

Shall with his owne bloud° price that he has spilt. 

But what art thou, that telst of Nephews kilt ? 230 

I that do seeme not I, Duessa am, 

(Quoth she) how ever now in garments gilt, 

And gorgeous gold arrayd I to thee came ; 
Duessa I, the daughter of Deccipt and Shame. 



90 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXVII 



Then bowing downe her aged backe, she kist 235 

Tht; wicked witch, saying ; In that faire face 
The false resemblance of Deceipt I wist 
Did closely lurke ; yet so true-seeming grace 
It carried, that I scarce in darkesome place 
Could it discerne, though I the mother bee 240 

Of falshood, and roote of Duessaes race. 
O welcome child, whom I have longd to see, 

And now have scene unwares. Lo now I go with thee. 

XXVIII 

Then to her yron wagon she betakes, 

And with lier beares the fowle welfavourd witch : 245 

Through mirkesome aire her readie way she makes. 

Her twyfold Teme, of which two blacke as pitch, 

And two were browne, yet each to each unlich, 

Did softly swim away, ne ever stampe, 

Unlesse she chaunst their stul)borne mouths to twitch ; 250 

Then foming tarre, their bridles they would champe. 

And trampling the fine element would fiercely rampe. 

XXIX 

So well they sped, that they be come at length 

Unto the place, whereas the Paynim lay. 

Devoid of outward sense, and native strength, 255 

Coverd with charmed cloud from vew of day 

And sight of men, since his late luckelesse fray. 

His cruell wounds with cruddy bloud congeald 

They binden up so wisely, as they may, 

And handle softly, till they can be healed : 260 

So lay him in her charet, close in night concealed. 



CANTO V 91 



XXX 



And all the while she stood upon the ground, 

Tlie wakefull dogs did never cease to bay,° 

As giving warning of th' unwonted sound, 

With wdiicli her yron wheeles did them affray, 265 

And her darke griesly looke them much dismay : 

The messenger of death, the ghastly Owle° 

With drery shriekes did also her bewray ; 

And hungry Wolves continually did howle, 
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle. 270 

XXXI 

Thence turning backe in silence soft they stole, 
And brought the heavie corse with easie pace 
To yawning gulfe of deepe Avernus hole.° 
By that same hole an entrance darke and bace 
With smoake and sulphure hiding all the place, 275 

Descends to hell : there creature never past. 
That backe returned without heavenly grace ; 
But dreadfull Furies which their chaines have brast. 

And damned sprights sent forth to make ill men aghast. 

XXXII 

By that same way the direfull dames doe drive 280 

Their mournefull charet, fild with rusty blood. 
And downe to Plutoes house are come bilive : 
Which passing through, on every side them stood 
The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood, 
Chattring their yron teeth, and staring wide 285 

With stonie eyes ; and all the hellish brood 
Of feends infernall fiockt on every side. 

To gaze on earthly wight that with the Night durst ride. 



92 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXXIII 

They pas the bitter waves of Acheron, 

Where many soules sit wailing woefully, 290 

And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton, 

Whereas the damned ghosts in torments fry. 

And with sharpe shrilling shriekes doe bootlesse cry, 

Cursing high Jove, the which them thither sent. 

The house of endlesse paine is built thereby, 295 

In which ten thousand sorts of punishment 

The cursed creatures doe eternally torment. 

XXXIV 

Before the threshold dreadfull Cerberus° 
His three deformed heads did lay along. 
Curled with thousand adders venemous, 300 

And lilled forth his bloudie flaming tong : 
At tlieni he gan to reare his bristles strong. 
And felly gnarre, until Dayes enemy 
Did him appease ; then downe his taile he hong 
And suflVed them to passen quietly : 305 

For she in hell and heaven had power equally. 

XXXV 

There was Ixion turned on a wheele, 

For daring tempt the Queene of heaven to sin ; 

And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reele 

Against an hill, ne might from labour lin ; 310 

There thirsty Tantalus hong by the chin ; 

And Tityus fed a vulture on his maw ; 

Typhoeus joynts were stretched on a gin, 

Theseus condemnd to endlesse slouth by law, 

And fifty sisters water in leake vessels draw. 315 



CANTO V 93 



XXXVI 



They all beholding Avorldly wights in place, 

Leave off their worke, unmindfull of their smart, 

To gaze on them ; who fortli by them doe pace, 

Till they be come unto the furthest part ; 

Where was a Cave ywrought by wondrous art, 320 

Deepe, darke, uneasie, dolefull, comfortlesse, 

In which sad Aesculapius° farre apart 

Emprisond w^as in chaines remedilesse, 

For that Hippolytus rent corse he did redresse. 

XXXVII 

Hippolytus a jolly huntsman was 325 

That wont in charett chace the foming Bore : 

He all his Peeres in beauty did surpas, 

But Ladies love as losse of time forbore : 

His wanton stepdame loved him the more, 

But when she saw her offred sweets refused, 330 

Her love she turnd to hate, and him before 

His father fierce of treason false accused. 
And with her gealous termes his open eares abused. 

XXXVIII 

Who all in rage his Sea-god syre besought. 

Some cursed vengeaunce on his sonne to cast, 335 

From surging gulf two monsters straight were brought, 

With dread whereof his chasing steedes aghast. 

Both charet swift and huntsman overcast. 

His goodly corps on ragged clitfs yrent. 

Was quite disraembred, and his members chast 340 

Scattered on every mountaine, as he went, 
That of Hippolytus was left no moniment, 



94 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXIX 

His cruell step-dame seeing what was donne, 
Her wickecl dayes with wretched knife did end, 
In death avowing th' innocence of lier sonne, 
Which hearing, his rash Syre began to rend 
His haire, and hastie tongue that did offend. 
Tho gathering up the relicks of his smart, 
By Dianes meanes, who was Hippolyts frend. 
Them brought to ^sculape, that by his art 

Did heale them all againe, and joyned every part. 

XL 

Such wondrous science in mans wit to raine 
When Jove avizd, that could the dead revive, 
And fates expired" could renew againe, 
Of endlesse life he might him not deprive, 
But unto hell did thrust him downe alive, 
With flashing thundei'bolt ywounded sore : 
Where long remaining, he did alwaies strive 
Himselfe with salves to health for to restore, 

And slake the heavenly fire, that raged evermore. 

XLI 

There auncient Night arriving, did alight 

From her nigh wearie waine, and in her armes 
To ^sculapius brought the wounded knight : 
Whom having softly disarayd of armes, 
Tho gan to him discover all his harmes. 
Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise, 
If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes 
A fordonue wight from dore of death mote raise, 

He would at her request prolong her nephews dales. 



CANTO V 95 



XLII 



Ah Dame (quoth he) thou temp test me in A^aine, 370 

To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew, 
And the old cause of my continued paine 
With like attempt to like end to renew. 
Is not enough, that thrust from heaven dew 
Here endlesse penance for one fault I pay, 375 

But that redoubled crime with vengeance new 
Thou biddest me to eeke 1 can Night defray 

The wrath of thundring Jove that rules both night and day ? 

XLIII 

Not so (quoth she) but sith that heavens king 

From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight, 380 

Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing ; 

And fearest not, that more thee hurten might, 

Now in the powre of everlasting Night 1 

Goe to then, thou farre renowmed sonne 

Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might 385 

In medicine, that else hath to thee wonne 
Great paines, and greater praise, ° both never to be donne. 

XLIV 

Her words prevaild : And then the learned leach 
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay. 
And all things else, the which his art did teach : 390 

Which having scene, from thence arose away 
The mother of dread darknesse, and let stay 
Aveugles sonne there in the leaches cure, 
And backe returning tooke her wonted way. 
To runne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure, 395 

In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure. 



96 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLV 

The false Duessa leaving noyous Night, 
Returnd to stately pallace of Dame Pride ; 
Where when she came, she found the Faery knight 
Departed thence, albe his woundes wide 400 

Not throughly heald, unreadie were to ride. 
Good cause he had to hasten thence away ; 
For on a day his wary Dwarfe had spide 
Where in a dongeon deepe huge numbers lay 

Of caytive wretched thrals, that wayled night and day. 405 

XLVI 

A ruefull sight, as could be scene with eie ; 

Of whom he learned had in secret wise 

The hidden cause of their captivitie, 

How mortgaging their lives to Covetise, 

Through wastfull Pride and wanton Riotise, 410 

They were by law of that proud Tyrannesse, 

Provokt with Wrath, and Envies false surmise, 

Condemned to that Dongeon mercilesse. 
Where they should live in woe, and die in wretchednesse. 

XLVII 

There was that great proud king of Babylon, ° 415 

That would compell all nations to adore. 

And him as onely God to call upon. 

Till through celestiall doome throwne out of dore. 

Into an Oxe he was transform'd of yore : 

There also was king Croesus, ° that enhaunst 420 

His hart too high through his great riches store ; 

And proud Antiochus,° the which advaunst 
His cursed hand gainst God, and on his altars daunst. 



CANTO V 



XLVIII 



And them long time before, great Nimrocr was, 

That first the world with sword and fire warrayd ; 425 

And after him old Niniis° farre did pas 

In princely pompe, of all the world obayd ; 

There also was that mightie Monarch° layd 

Low under all, yet above all in pride, 

That name of native syre did fowle upbrayd, 430 

And would as Amnions sonne be magnifide. 
Till scornd of God and man a shamefull death he dide. 

XLIX 

All these together in one heape were throwne, 

Like carkases of beasts in butchers stall. 

And in another corner wide were strowne 435 

The antique mines of the Romaines fall : 

Great Romulus° the Grandsyre of them all, 

Proud Tarquin, and too lordly Lentulus, 

Stout Scipio, and stubborne Hanniball, 

Ambitious Sylla, and sterne Marius, 440 

High Caesar, great Pompey,° and fierce Antonius.° 



Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt, 

Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfull of their yoke : 

The bold Semiramis,° whose sides transfixt 

With sonnes own blade, her fowle reproches spoke ; 445 

Faire Sthenoboea,° that her selfe did choke 

With wilfull cord, for wanting of her will ; 

High minded Cleopatra,° that with stroke 

Of Aspes sting her selfe did stoutly kill : 
And thousands moe the like, that did that dongeon fill ; 450 



98 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



LI 

Besides the endlesse routs of wretelied thralles, 
Which thither were assembled day by day, 
From all the world after their wofull falles 
Through wiclced pride, and wasted wealthes decay. 
But most of all, which in the Dongeon lay, 455 

Fell from high Princes courts, or Ladies bowres ; 
Where they in idle pompe, or wanton play. 
Consumed had their goods, and thriftlesse howres, 

And lastly throwne themselves into these heavy stowres. 

LII 

Whose case when as the carefuU Dwarfe had tould, 460 

And made ensample of their mournefull sight 

Unto his maister, he no lenger would 

There dwell in perill of like painefull plight, 

But early rose, and ere that dawning light 

Discovered had the world to heaven wyde, 465 

He by a privie Posterne tooke his flight. 

That of no envious eyes he mote be spyde : 
For doubtlesse death ensewd, if any him descryde. 

LIII 

Scarse could he footing find in that fowle way, 

For many corses, like a great Lay-stall, 470 

Of murdred men which therein strowed lay. 

Without remorse, or decent funerall : 

Which all through that great Princesse pride did fall 

And came to shamefull end. And them beside 

Forth ryding underneath the castell wall, 475 

A donghill of dead carkases he spide. 

The dreadfull spectacle of that sad house of Pride. 



CANTO VI 99 



CANTO VI 



From lawlesse hist by wondrous grace 

fayre Una is releast : 
Whom salvage nation does adore, 

and learnes her wise heheast. 



As when a ship, that flyes faire under saile, 

An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares, 

That lay in waite her wrack for to bewaile, 

The Marriner yet halfe amazed stares 

At perill past, and yet in doubt ne dares 5 

To joy at his foole-happie oversight : 

So doubly is distrest twixt joy and cares 

The dreadlesse courage of this Elfin knight, 
Having escapt so sad ensamples in his sight. 

II 

Yet sad he was that his too hastie speede 10 

The faire Duess' had forst him leave behind ; 

And yet more sad, that Una his deare dreed 

Her truth had staind with treason so unkind ; 

Yet crime in her could never creature find, 

But for his love, and for her owne selfe sake, 15 

She wandred had from one to other Ynd,° 

Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake, 
Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake. 

LofC. 



100 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

III 

Who, after Arcliimagoes fowle defeat, 

Led her away into a forest wilde, 20 

And turning wrathful! fyre to histfuU heat, 

With beastly sin thought her to have defilde. 

And made the vassal of his pleasures vilde. 

Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes. 

Her to persuade that stubborne fort to yilde : 25 

For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes. 

That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines. 

IV 

With fawning words he courted her awhile. 

And looking lovely, and oft sighing sore. 

Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile, 30 

But wordes and lookes, and sighes she did abhore ; 

As rocke of Diamond steadfast evermore. 

Yet for to feed his fyrie lustfuU eye. 

He snatcht the vele that hong her face before ; 

Then gan her beautie shyne, as brightest skye 35 

And burnt his beastly hart t'efforce her chastitye. 



So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle. 

And subtile engines bett from batteree ; 

With greedy force he gan the fort assayle. 

Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, 40 

And with rich spoile of ransackt chastitee. 

Ah heavens ! that do this hideous act behold. 

And heavenly virgin thus outraged see. 

How can ye vengeance just so long with old 
And hurle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold ? 45 



CANTO VI 101 



VI 

The pitteous maiden carefull comfortlesse, 

Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking eryes, 

The last vaine helpe of womens great distresse, 

And with loud plaints importuneth the skyes, 

That molten starres do drop like weeping eyes ; 50 

And Phoebus flying so most shameful sight, 

His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes, 

And hides for shame. What wit of mortall wight 

Can now devise to quit a thrall from such a plight ? 

VII 

Eternal providence exceeding thought, 55 

Where none appeares can make herselfe a way : 
A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought. 
From Lyons clawes to pluck the griped pray. 
Her shrill outcryes and shriekes so loud did bray, 
That all the woodes and forestes did resownd ; 60 

A troupe of Faunes and Satyres° far away 
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd, 

Whiles old Sylvanus° slept in shady arber sownd : 

VIII 

Who when they heard that pitteous strained voice, 

In haste forsooke their rurall meriment, 65 

And ran towards the far rebownded noyce, 

To weet, what wight so loudly did lament. 

Unto the place they come incontinent : 

Whom when the raging Sarazin espide, 

A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, 70 

Whose like he never saw, he durst not bide, 
But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ride. 



102 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



IX 

The wyld woodgods arrived in the place, 

There find the virgin dolefnll desolate, 

With ruffled rayinents, and faire blubbred face, 75 

As her outrageous foe had left her late ; 

And trembling yet through feare of former hate : 

All stand amazed at so uncouth sight, 

And gin to pittie her unhappie state ; 

All stand astonied at her beautie bright, 80 

In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofuU plight. 



She more amaz'd, in double dread doth dwell ; 
And every tender part for feare doth shake : 
As when a greedie Wolfe, through hunger fell, 
A seely Lambe farre from the flocke does take, 85 

Of whom he meanes his bloudie feast to make, 
A Lyon spyes fast running towards him, 
The innocent pray in hast he does forsake, 
Which quit from death yet quakes in every lim 

With chaunge of feare, ° to see the Lyon looke so grim. 90 

XI 

Such fearefull fit assaid her trembling hart, 

Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move she had : 

The salvage nation feele her secret smart. 

And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad ; 

Their frowning forheads with rough homes yclad, 95 

And rustick horror° all a side doe lay ; 

And gently grenning, show a semblance glad 

To comfort her, and feare to put away. 
Their backward bent knees° teach her humbly to obay. 



CANTO VI 103 



XII 



The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet commit 100 

Her single person to their barbarous truth f 
But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sit, 
Late learnd° what harme to hasty trust ensu'th : 
They in compassion of her tender youth, 
And wonder of her beautie soveraine, 105 

Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth. 
And all prostrate upon the lowly plaine, 

Do kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance faine. 



XIII 

Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise, 

And yieldes her to extremitie of time ; 110 

So from the ground she fearlesse doth arise, 
And walketh forth without suspect of crime :° 
They all as glad, as birdes of joyous Prime, 
Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round. 
Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme, 115 

And with greene braunches strowing all the ground. 

Do worship her, as Queene, with olive° girlond cround. 

XIV 

And all the way their merry pipes they sound. 
That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring. 
And with their horned feet° do weare the ground, 120 

Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring. 
So towards old Sylvanus they her bring ; 
Who with the noyse awaked commeth out 
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing. 
And aged limbs on Cypresse stadle stout ; 125 

And with an yvie twyne his wast is girt about. 



104 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XV 

Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad, 
Or Bacchus merry fruit° they did invent, 
Or Cybeles franticke rites° have made them mad, 
They drawing nigh, unto their God present 130 

That fiowre of faith and beautie excellent. 
The God himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare,° 
Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent ; 
His owne faire Dryope° now he thinkes not faire, 

And Pholoe fowle when her to this he doth compaire. 135 

XVI 

The woodborue people fall before her flat, 
And worship her as Goddesse of the wood ; 
And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes not, what 
To thinke of wight so faire, but gazing stood, 
In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood ; 140 

Sometimes Dame Venus selfe he seemes to see. 
But Venus never had so sober mood ; 
Sometimes Diana he her takes to bee. 

But misseth bow, and shaftes, and buskins to her knee. 

XVII 

By vew of her he ginneth to revive 145 

His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse,° 
And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive, 
How faire he was, and yet not faire to this,° 
And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse 
A gentle Hynd, the which the lovely boy 150 

Did love as life, above all worldly blisse ; 
For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after joy,° 

But pynd away in anguish and selfe-wild annoy. ° 



CANTO VI 105 



XYIII 



The wooddy Nymphes, faire Hamadryades,° 

Her to behold do thither runne apace, 155 

And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades° 

Flocke all about to see lier lovely face : 

But when they vewed have her heavenly grace, 

They envy her in their malitious mind, 

And fly away for feare of fowle disgrace : 160 

But all the Satyres scorne their woody kind,° 
And henceforth nothing faire but her on earth they find. 

XIX 

Glad of such lucke, the luckelesse° lucky maid, 

Did her content to please their feeble eyes, 

And long time with that salvage people staid, 165 

To gather breath in many miseries. 

During which time her gentle wit she plyes. 

To teach them truth, which worshipt her in vaine. 

And made her th' Image of Idolatry es° ; 

But when their bootlesse zeale she did restraine 170 

From her own worship, they her Asse would worship fayn. 

XX 

It fortmied a noble warlike knight° 
By just occasion" to that forrest came. 
To seeke his kindred, and the lignage right. 
From whence he tooke his well deserved name : 175 

He had in armes abroad wonne muchell fame, 
And fild far lands with glorie of his might, 
Plaine, faithfull, true, and enimy of shame. 
And ever lov'd to fight for Ladies right : 

But in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight. 180 



106 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXI 



A Satyres sonno yborne in forrest wjdd, 

By straunge adventure as it did betyde, 

And there begotten of a Lady myld, 

Faire Thyaniis° the daughter of Labryde, 

That was in sacred bands of wedlocke tyde 185 

To Therion, a loose unruly swayne ; 

Who had more joy to raunge the forrest wyde, 

And chase the salvage beast with busie payne, 
Then serve his Ladies love, and wast in pleasures vayne. 



XXII 

The forlorne mayd did with loves longing burne 190 

And could not lacke her lovers company, 
But to the wood she goes, to serve her turne. 
And seeke her spouse that from her still does fly, 
And folio wes other game and venery : 
A Satyre chaunst her wandring for to finde, 195 

* * * * -Sfr * * 

And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind. 



XXIII 

So long in secret cabin there he held 



Then home he suffred her for to retyre. 
For ransome leaving him the late borne childe ; 
Whom till to ryper yeares he gan aspire, 200 

He noursled up in life and manners wilde. 
Emongst wild beasts and woods, from lawes of men exilde. 



CANTO VI 107 



XXIV 



For call he tcaught the tender ymp, was but" 

To banish cowardize and bastard feare ; 

His trembling hand he would him force to put iiU5 

Upon the Lyon and the rugged Beare ; 

And from the she Beares teats her whelps to teare ; 

And eke wyld roaring Buls he would him make 

To tame, and ryde their backes not made to beare ; 

And the Robuckes in flight to overtake, 210 

That every beast for feare of him did fly and quake. 

XXV 

Thereby so fearlesse, and so fell he grew, 

That his owne sire and maister of his guise ° 

Did often tremble at his horrid vew,° 

And oft for dread of hurt would him advise, 215 

The angry beasts not rashly to despise. 

Nor too much to provoke ; for he would learne 

The Lyon stoup to him in lowly wise, 

(A lesson hard) and make the Libbard sterne 

Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne. 220 

XXVI 

And for to make his povire approved more, 
Wyld beasts in yron yokes he would compell ; 
The spotted Panther, and the tusked Bore, 
The Pardale swift, and the tigre cruell, 
The Antelope, and Wolfe both fierce and fell; 225 

And them constraine in equall teme to draw. 
Such joy he had, their stubborne harts to quell, 
And sturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw. 

That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law. 



108 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXVII 



His loving mother came upon a day . 230 

Unto the woods, to see her little sonne ; 
And chaunst unwares to meet him in the way, 
After his sportes, and cruell pastime donne ; 
When after him a Lyonesse did runne, 
That roaring all with rage, did lowd requere 235 

Her children deare, whom he away had wonne : 
The Lyon whelpes she saw how he did beare, 

And lull in rugged armes, withouten childish feare. 

XXVIII 

The fearefull Dame all quaked at the sight, 

And turning backe, gan fast to fly away, 240 

Untill with love revokt from vaine aff"right. 

She hardly yet perswaded was to stay, 

And then to him these womanish words gan say ; 

Ah Satyrane, my dearling, and my joy. 

For love of me leave off this dreadfull play ; 245 

To dally thus with death is no fit toy, 
Go find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet boy. 

XXIX 

In these and like delights of bloudy game 
He trayned was, till ryper yeares he raught ; 
And there abode, whilst any beast of name 250 

Walkt in that forest, whom he had not taught 
To feare his force : and then his courage haught 
Desird of forreine foemen to be knowne, 
And far abroad for straunge adventures sought ; 
In which his might was never overthrowne ; 255 

But through all Faery lond his famous worth was blown. ° 



CANTO VI 109 



XXX 



Yet evermore it was his manner faire, 

After long labours and adventures spent, 

Unto those native woods for to repaire, 

To see his sire and offspring auncient. 260 

And now he thither came for like intent ; 

Where he unwares the feirest Una found, 

Straunge Lady, in so straunge habiliment, 

Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, 
Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did redound. 265 

XXXI 

He wondrecl at her wisedome heavenly rare. 

Whose like in women s wit he never knew ; 

And when her curteous deeds he did compare, 

Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew. 

Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, 270 

And joyd to make proofe of her cruel tie. 

On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse, and so trew : 

Thenceforth he kept her goodly company, 
And learnd her discipline of faith and veritie. 

XXXII 

But she all vowd unto the Redcrosse knight, 275 

His wandring perill closely did lament, 

Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight. 

But her deare heart with anguish did torment, 

And all her wit in secret counsels spent. 

How to escape. At last in privie wise 280 

To Satyrane she shewed her intent -, 

Who glad to gain such favour, gan devise 
How with that pensive Maid he best might thence arise. 



110 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXXIII 



So on a day when Satyres all were gone 

To do their service to Sylvanus old, 285 

The gentle virgin left behind alone 

He led away with courage stout and bold. 

Too late it was, to Satyres to be told. 

Or ever hope recover her againe : 

In vaine he seekes that having cannot hold. 290 

So fast he carried her with carefull paine, 
That they the woods are past, and come now to the plaine. 

XXXIV 

The better part now of the lingring day. 
They traveild had, whenas they farre espide 
A weary wight forwandring by the way, 295 

And towards him they gan in haste to ride, 
To weete of newes, that did abroad betide. 
Or tydings of her knight of the Redcrosse. 
But he them spying, gan to turne aside. 
For feare as seemd, or for some feigned losse ; 300 

More greedy they of newes, fast towards him do crosse. 

XXXV 

A silly man, in simple weedes forworne, 

And soild with dust of the long dried way ; 

His sandales were with toilsome travell toi'ne, 

And ftice all tand with scorching sunny ray, 305 

As he had traveild many a sommers day, 

Through boyling sands of Arabic and Ynde ; 

And in his hand a Jacobs staft*e,° to stay 

His wearie limbes upon : and eke behind. 
His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind. 310 



CANTO VI 111 

XXXVI 

The knight approaching nigh, of him inquerd 

Tidings of warre, and of adventures new ; 

But warres, nor new adventures none he herd. 

Then Una gan to aske, if ought he knew, 

Or heard abroad of that her champion trew, 315 

That in his armour bare a croslet red. 

Aye nie, Deare dame (quoth he) well may I rew 

To tell the sad sight which mine eies have red : 
These eies did see that knight both living and eke ded. 

XXXVII 

That cruell word her tender hart so thrild, 320 

That suddein cold did runne through every vaine. 
And stony horrour all her sences fild 
With dying fit, that downe she fell for paine. 
The knight her lightly reared up againe. 
And comforted with curteous kind reliefe : 325 

Then, wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaine 
The further processe of her hidden griefe : 

The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endur'd the chiefe. 

XXXVIII 

Then gan the Pilgrim thus, I chaunst this day, 

This fatall day, that shall I ever rew, 330 

To see two knights in travell on my way 

(A sory sight) arraung'd in battell new, 

Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wrathfull hew : 

My fearefull flesh did tremble at their strife, 

To see their blades so greedily imbrew, 335 

That drunke with bloud, yet thristed after life : 

What more ? the Redcrosse knight was slaine with Paynim knife. 



112 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIX 



Ah dearest Lord (quoth she) how might that bee, 
And he the stoughtest knight, that ever wonne 1 
Ah dearest dame (quoth he) how might I see 340 

The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne 1 
Where is (said Satyrane) that Paynims sonne, 
Tliat him of life, and us of joy hath reft? 
Not far away (quoth he) he hence doth wonne 
Foreby a fountaine, where I late him left 345 

Washing his bloudy wounds, that through the Steele were cleft. 

XL 

Therewith the kniglit thence marched forth in hast, 

Whiles Una with huge heavinesse opprest, 

Could not for sorrow follow him so fast ; 

And soone he came, as he the place had ghest, 350 

Whereas that Pagan proud him selfe did re^t, 

In secret shadow by a fountaine side : 

Even he it was, that earst would have supprest 

Faire Una : whom when Satyrane espide. 
With fowle reprochfuU words he boldly him defide. 355 

XLI 

And said. Arise thou cursed Miscreaunt, 

That hast with knightlesse guile and trecherous train 

Faire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest vaunt 

That good knight of the Redcrosse to have slain : 

Arise, and with like treason now maintain 360 

Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield. 

The Sarazin this hearing, rose amain. 

And catching up in hast his three-square shield. 

And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field. 



CANTO VI ii; 



XLII 



And drawing nigh him said, Ah misborne Elfe, 365 

In evill houre thy foes thee hither sent, 
Anothers wrongs to wreake npon thy selfe : 
Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent 
My name with guile and traiterous intent : 
That Redcrosse knight, perdie, I never slew, 370 

But had he beene, where earst his arms were lent,° 
Th' enchaunter vaine° his errour should not rew : 

But thou his errour shalt,° I hope, now proven trew. 

XLIII 

Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, 

To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile 375 

Each other bent his enimy to quell. 

That with their force they perst both plate and maile, 

And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile. 

That it would pitty any living eie. 

Large floods of bloud adowne their sides did raile ; 380 

But floods of bloud could not them satisfie : 
Both hungred after death : both chose to win, or die. 

XLIV 

So long they fight, and fell revenge pursue. 
That fainting each, themselves to breathen let. 
And oft refreshed, battell oft renue : 385 

As when two Bores with rancling malice met,° 
Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely fret. 
Til breathlesse both them selves aside retire. 
Where foming wrath, their cruell tuskes they whet. 
And trample th' earth, the whiles they may respire ; 390 

Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire. 
I 



114 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLV 



So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once, 
They gan to fight returne, increasing more 
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce. 
With heaped strokes more hugely then before, 395 

That with their drerie wounds and bloudy gore 
They both deformed, scarsely could be known. 
By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore, 
Led with tlieir noise, which through the aire was thrown : 

AiTiv'd, wber they in erth their fruitles bloud had sown. 400 

XLVI 

Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin 

Espide, he gan revive the memory 

Of his lewd lusts, and late attempted sin, 

And left the doubtfuU battell hastily. 

To catch her, newly offred to his eie : 405 

But Satyrane with strokes him turning, staid, 

And sternely bad him other businesse plie, 

Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted Maid : 
Wherewith he aH enrag'd, these bitter speaches said. 

XLVII 

foolish faeries sonne, what fury mad 410 

Hath thee incenst, to hast thy dolefull fate? 
Were it not better I that Lady had, 
Then that thou hadst repented it too late ? 
Most sencelesse man he, that himselfe doth hate 
To love another. Lo then for thine ayd 415 

Here take thy lovers token on thy pate.° 
So they two fight ; the whiles the royall Mayd 

Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd. 



CANTO VI 115 



XLVIII 



But tliat false Pilgrim, which that leasing told, 

Being in deed old Archiniage, did stay 420 

In secret shadow, all this to behold. 

And much rejoiced in their bloudy fray : 

But when he saw the Damsell passe away. 

He left his stond, and her pursewd apace, 

In hope to bring her to her last decay, ° 425 

But for to tell her lamentable cace,° 
And eke this battels end, will need another place. 



ll6 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



CANTO VII 

The Redcrosse knight is captive made 
by Gy aunt proud oppresi, 

Prince Arthxir meets loith Una great- 
ly loith those neioes cUstrest. 



What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, 

As to discry the crafty cunning traine, 

By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire. 

And cast her colours dyed deepe in graine, 

To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can faine, 5 

And fitting gestures to her purpose frame ; 

The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaiiie ? 

Great maistresse of her art was that false Dame, * 
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name. 

II 

Who when returning from the drery Night, 10 

She fownd not in that perilous house of Pryde, 
Where she had left, the noble Redcrosse knight. 
Her hoped pray ; she would no lenger bide, 
But forth she went, to seeke him far and wide. 
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate 15 

To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine side, 
Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate, 

And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. 



CANTO VII 111 



III 



He feedes iipon° the cooling shade, and bayes 

His sweatie forehead in the breathing wind, 20 

Which through the trembhng leaves full gently playes. 

Wherein the cherefull birds of sundry kind 

Do chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mind : 

The Witch approaching gan him fairely greet, 

And with reproch of carelesnesse unkind 25 

Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet. 

With fowle w^ords tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet. 

IV 

Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat, 
And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade. 
Which shielded them against the boyling heat, 30 

And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade, 
About the fountaine like a girlond made ; 
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, 
Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade : 
The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell, 35 

Was out of Dianes favour, as it then befell. 



The cause was this : One day, when Phoebe° fayre 
With all her band was following the chace, 
This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre, 
Sat downe to rest in middest of the race : 40 

The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace. 
And bad the waters, which from her did flow, 
Be such as she her selfe was then in place. 
Thenceforth her waters waxed dull and slow. 

And all that drinke thereof do faint and feeble grow.° 45 



.l8 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



VI 



Hereof this gentle knight nnweeting was, 
And lying downe upon the sandie graile, 
. Drunke of the streame, as cleare as cristall glas : 
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fade, 
And mightie strong was turned to feeble fraile. 50 

His chaunged powres at first them selves not felt, 
Till crudled cold his corage gan assaile. 
And cheareful bloud in faintnesse chill did melt. 

Which like a fever fit through all his body swelt. 



VII 

Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame, 55 

Pounr out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd. 
Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame : 
Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd, 
Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebownd, 
That all the earth for terrour seemd to shake, 60 

And trees did tremble. Th' Elfe therewith astownd, 
Upstarted lightly from his looser make,° 

And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. 



VIII 

But ere he could his armour on him dight, 

Or get his shield, his monstrous enimy 65 

^ With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, 
An hideous Geant,° horrible and hye. 
That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye, 
The ground eke groned under him for dreed ; 
His living like saw never living eye, 70 



CANTO VII 119 

Ne durst behold : his stature did exceed 
The hight of three the tallest soiines of mortall seed. 



IX 

The gi'eatest Earth his uncouth mother was, 
And blustering ^olus his boasted syre, 
***** * 

Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slime 75 
Puft up with emptie wind, and fild with sinfidl crime. 



So growen great through arrogant delight 
Of th' high descent, whereof he was yborne. 
And through presumption of his matchlesse might. 
All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. 80 

Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne. 
And left to losse : his stalking steps are stayde 
Upon a snaggy Oke, which he had torne 
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made 

His mortall mace, wherewith his foeman he dismayde. 85 



XI 

That when the knight he spide, he gan advance 
With huge force and insupportable mayne, 
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce ; 
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine 
Did to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne, 90 

Disarmd, disgrast, and inwardly dismayde. 
And eke so faint in every joynt and vaine. 
Through that fraile fountaine, which him feeble made, 

That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade. 



.20 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XII 



The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse, 95 

That could have overthrowne a stony towre, 
And were not heavenly grace, that did him blesse, 
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as fiowre : 
But he was wary of that deadly stowre, 
And lightly lept from underneath the blow : 100 

Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre, 
That with the wind it did him overthrow, 

And all his sences stound, that still he lay full low. 

XIII 

As when that divelish yron Engin° wrought 

In deepest Hell, and framd by Furies skill, 105 

With windy Nitre and quick Sulphur fraught. 

And ramd with bullet round, ordain d to kill, 

Conceiveth fire, the heavens it doth fill 

With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke, 

That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will, 110 

Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smoke. 

That th' onely breath° him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke. 

XIV 

So daunted when the Geaunt saw the knight. 

His heavie hand he heaved up on hye. 

And him to dust thought to have battred quight, 115 

Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye ; 

great Orgoglio, greatest under skye, 

hold thy mortall hand for Ladies sake. 

Hold for my sake, and do him not to dye,° 

But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make, 120 

And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy Lemp.n take. 



CANTO VII 121 



XV 

He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes, 

To gay lie so goodly guerdon, as she spake : 

So willingly she came into his armes, 

Who her as willingly to grace did take, 125 

And was possessed of his new found make. 

Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse. 

And ere he could out of his swowne awake, 

Him to his castle brought with hastie forse. 
And in a Dongeon deepe him threw without remorse. 130 

XVI 

From that day forth Duessa was his dears, 
And highly honourd in his haughtie eye. 
He gave her gold and purple pall to weare, 
And triple crowne set on her head full hye. 
And her endowd with royall majestye : 135 

Then for to make her dreaded more of men. 
And peoples harts wdth awfull terrour tye, 
A monstrous beast° ybred in filthy fen 

He chose, which he had kept long time in darksome den.° 

XVII 

Such one it was, as that renowmed Snake° 140 

Which great Alcides in Stremona slew. 

Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake. 

Whose many heads out budding ever new 

Did breed him endlesse labour to subdew : 

But this same Monster much more ugly was ; 145 

For seven great heads out of his body grew, 

An yron brest, and back of scaly bras,° 
And all embrewd in bloud, his eyes did shine as glas. 



122 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 



His tayle was stretched out in wondrous Jength, 

That to the house of heavenly gods it raught,° 150 

And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength, 

The ever-burning lamps from thence it braught, 

And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught ; 

And underneath his filthy feet did tread 

The sacred thirn^s, and holy heasts foretaught.° 155 

Upon this dreadfull Beast with sevenfold head 

He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. 

XIX 

The wofull Dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall, 
Whiles he liad keeping of his grasing steed, 
And valiant knight become a caytive thrall, 160 

When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed," 
His mightie armour, missing most at need ; 
His silver shield, now idle maisterlesse ; 
His ]:)oynant speare, that many made to bleed, 
The rueful niouiments° of heavinesse, 165 

And with them all departes, to tell his great distresse. 

XX 

He had not travaild long, when on the way 
He wofull Ladie, wofull Una met. 
Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray, 
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let : 170 

Who when her eyes she on the Dwarfe had set, 
And saw the signes, that deadly tydings spake, 
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret. 
And lively breath her sad T)rest did forsake, 

Yet might her pitteous hart be scene to pant and quake. 175 



CANTO VII 123 



XXI 

The messenger of so unhappie newes, 

Would faine have dyde : dead was his hart within, 

Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes : 

At last recovering hart, he does begin 

To rub her temples, and to chaufe her chin. 180 

And everie tender part does tosse and turne : 

So hardly° he the flitted life does win. 

Unto her native prison to retourne r 
Then gins her grieved ghost thus to laitient and mourne. 



XXII 

Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight, 185 

That doe this deadly spectacle behold, 
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light, 
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, 
Sith cruell fates the carefull threeds unfould, 
The which my life and love together tyde ? 190 

Now let the stony dart of senselesse cold 
Perce to my hart, and pas through every side, 

And let eternall night so sad siglit fro me hide. 

XXIII 

lightsome day, the lampe of highest Jove, 

First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde, 195 

When darkenesse he in deepest dongeon drove, 

Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde, 

And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde : 

For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed, 

And late repentance, which shall long abyde. 200 

Mine eyes no more on vauitie shall feed, 

But seeled up Avith death, ° shall have their deadly meed. 



124 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXIV 



Then downe againe she fell unto the ground ; 

But he her quickly reared up againe : 

Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd 205 

And thrise he her re\4v'd with busie paine, 

At last when life recover'd had tlie raine, 

And over-wrestled his strong enemie, 

With foltring tong, and trembling every vaine, 

Tell on (quoth she) the wofull Tragedie, 210 

The which these rdiques sad present unto mine eie. 

XXV 

Tetnpestuous fortune hath spent all her spight, 
And thrilling sorrow thrown^ his utmost dart ; 
Thy sad tongue cannot tell more heavy plight, 
Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart : 215 

Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare each part. 
If death it be, it is not the first wound. 
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart. 
Begin, and end the bitter balefuU stound ; ° 

If lesse then that I feare,° more favour I have found. 220 

XXVI 

Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse declare, 

The subtill traines of Archimago old ; 

The wanton loves of false Fidessa faire. 

Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold ; 
, The wretched payre transformed to treen mould ; 225 

The house of Pride, and perils round about ; 

The combat, which he with Sansjoy did hould ; 

The lucklesse conflict with the Gyant stout. 
Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt. 



CANTO VII 125 

XXVII 

She heard with patience all unto the end, 230 

And strove to maister sorrowfull assay, ° 

Which greater grew, the more she did contend, 

And almost rent her tender hart in tway ; 

And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay : 

For greater love, the greater is the losse. 235 

Was never Lady° loved dearer day. 

Then she did love the knight of the Redcrosse ; 
For whose deare sake so ma.ny troubles her did tosse. 

XXVIII 

At last when fervent sorrow slaked was, 

She up arose, resolving him to find 240 

Alive or dead : and forward forth doth pas, 

All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd : 

And evermore, in constant carefull mind. 

She fed her wound with fresh renewed bale ; 

Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind, 245 

High over hills, and low adowne the dale. 
She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale. 

XXIX 

At last she chaunced by good hap to meet 
A goodly knight, ° faire marching by the way 
Together with his Squire, arrayed meet : 250 

His glitterand armour shined farre away, 
Like glauncing light of Phoebus brightest ray ; 
From top to toe no place appeared bare. 
That deadly dint of Steele endanger may : 
Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware, 255 

That shynd, like twinkling stars, with stons most pretious rare. 



126 . THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXX 

And in the midst thereof one pretious stone 

Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, 

Shapt like a Ladies head,° exceeding shone, 

Like Hesperus° emongst the lesser lights, 260 

And strove for to amaze the weaker sights : 

Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong 

In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with curious slights ; 

Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle strong 

Of mother pearle, and buckled with a golden tong. 265 

XXXI 

His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold, 

Both glorious brightnesse, and great terrour bred ; 

For all the crest a Dragon° did enfold 

With greedie pawes, and over all did spred 

His golden wings : his dreadfuU hideous hed 270 

Close couched on the bever, seem'd to throw 

From flaming mouth bright sparkles fierie red. 

That suddeine horror to faint harts did show. 

And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his backe full low. 

XXXII 

Upon the top of all his loftie crest, 275 

A bunch of haires discolourd diversly, 

With sprincled pearle, and gold fiul richly drest, 

Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity. 

Like to an Almond tree ymounted hye 

On top of greene Selinis° all alone, 280 

With l)lossoms brave bedecked daintily ; 

AVhose tender locks do tremble every onfe 
At every little breath that under heaven is blowne. 



CANTO VII 127 



XXXIII 



His warlike shiekr all closely cover'd was, 

Ne might of mortall eye be ever seene ; 285 

Not made of Steele, nor of enduring bras, 

Such earthly mettals soone consumed beene ; 

But all of Diamond perfect pure and cleene 

It framed was, one massie entire mould, 

Hewen out of Adamant rocke with engines keene, 290 

That point of speare it never percen could, 
Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would. 

XXXIV 

The same to wight he never wont disclose, 
But when as monsters huge he would dismay. 
Or daunt unequall armies of his foes, 295 

Or when the flying heavens he would aff'ray ; 
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray. 
That Phoebus golden face it did attaint. 
As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay ; 
And silver Cynthia° wexed pale and faint, 300 

As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint. 

XXXV 

No magicke arts hereof had any might. 

Nor bloudie wordes of bold Enchaunters call ; 

But all that was not such as seemd in sight,° 

Before that shield did fado,^ and suddeine fall ; 305 

And, when him list° the raskall routes api)all. 

Men into stones therewith he could transmew, 

And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all ; 

And when him list the prouder lookes subdcw, 

He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew. 310 



128 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXVI 

Ne let it seeme, that credence this exceedes, 

For he that made the same, was knowne right well 

To have done much more admirable deedes. 

It Merlin° was, which whylome did excell 

All living wightes in might of magicke spell : 315 

Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought 

For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell ; 

But when he dyde, the Faerie Queene it brought 

To Faerie lond, where yet it may be scene, if sought. 

XXXVII 

A gentle youth, his dearely loved Squire, 320 

His speare of heben wood behind him bare, 
Whose harmefull head, thrice heated in the fire. 
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square : 
A goodly person, and could menage faire 
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bit, 325 

Who under him did trample° as the aire. 
And chauft, that any on his backe should sit ; 

The yron rowels into frothy fome he bit. 

XXXVIII 

When as this knight nigh to the Ladie drew. 

With lovely court he gan her entertaine ; 330 

But when he heard her answers loth, he knew 

Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine : 

Which to allay, and calme her storming paine, 

Faire feeling words he wisely gan display. 

And for her humour° fitting purpose faine, 335 

To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray ; 

Wherewith emmov'd, these bleeding words she gan to say. 



CANTO VII 129 



XXXIX 

What worlds delight, or joy of living speach 
Can heart, so plung'd in sea of sorrowes deep. 
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach ? 340 

The carefuU cold beginneth for to creepe, 
And in my heart his yron arrow steepe, 
Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale : 
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keepe, 
Then rip up griefe, where it may not availe, 345 

My last left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile. 

XL 

Ah Ladie deare, quoth then the gentle knight, 
Well may I weene your griefe is wondrous great ; 
For wondrous great griefe groneth in ray spright, 
Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. 350 

But wofull Ladie, let me you intrete 
For to unfold the anguish of your hart : 
Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete. 
And counsell mittigates the gi-eatest smart ; 

Found° never helpe who never would his hurts impart. 355 

XLI 

but (quoth she) great griefe will not be tould,° 

And can more easily be thought then said. 

Right so (quoth he), but he that never would, 

Could never : will to might gives greatest aid. 

But griefe (quoth she) does greater grow displaid, 360 

If then it find not helpe, and breedes despaire. 

Despaire breedes not (quoth he) where faith is staid. 

No faith ° so fast (quoth she) but flesh does paire. 
Flesh may empaire (quoth he) but reason can repaire. 



130 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLII 



His goodly reason, and well guided speacli, 365 

So deepe did settle in her gracions thought, 
That her perswaded to disclose the breach. 
Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought, 
And said ; Faire Sir, I hope good hap hath brought 
You to inquire the secrets of iny griefe, 370 

Or that your wisedome will direct my thought, 
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe : 

Then heare the storie sad, which I shall tell you briefe. 

XLIII 

The forlorne Maiden, whom your eyes have seene 

The laughing stocke of fortunes mockeries, 375 

Am th' only daughter^ of a King and Queene, 

Whose parents deare, whiiest equal destinies° 

Did runne about, and their felicities 

The favourable heavens did not envy, 

Did spread their rule through all the territories, 380 

Which Phison ° and Euphrates tloweth by. 

And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually. 

XLIV 

Till that their cruell cursed enemy. 

An huge great Dragon horrible in sight. 

Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary,° 385 

With murdrous ravine, and devouring might 

Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight : 

Themselves, for feare into his jawes to fall. 

He forst to castle strong to take their flight, 

Where fast embard in mighty brasen wall, 390 

He has them now foure yeres besiegd to make them thrall. ° 



CANTO VII 131 



XLV 



Full many knights adventurous and stout 
Have enterpriz'd that Monster to subdew ; 
From every coast that heaven walks about, ° 
Have thither come the noble Martiall crew, 395 

That famous hard atchievements still pursew ; 
Yet never any could that girlond win, 
But all still shronke, and still he greater grew : 
All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin, 

The pitteous pray of his fierce ci-ueltie have bin. 400 

XLVI 

At last yledd with farre reported praise, 

Which flying fame throughout the world had spred, 

Of doughty knights, whom Faery land did raise, 

That noble order° hight of Maidenhed, 

Forthwith to court of Gloriane° I sped 405 

Of Gloriane great Queene of glory bright. 

Whose Kingdomes seat Cleopolis° is red. 

There to obtaine some such redoubted knight, 

The Parents deare from tyrants powi'e deliver might. 

XLVII 

It was my chance (my chance was faire and good) 410 

There for to fi.nd a fresh unproved knight, 
Whose manly hands imbrew'd in guiltie blood 
Had never bene, ne ever by his might 
Had throwne to ground the unregarded right : 
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made 4l5 

(I witnesse am) in many a cruell fight ; 
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide 

Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade. 



132 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XLVIII 



And ye the forlorne reliques of his powre, 

His byting sword, and his devouring speare, 420 

Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre, 

Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare, 

And well could rule : now he hath left you heare 

To be the record of his ruefull losse, 

And of my dolefuU disaventurous deare : ° 425 

heavie record of the good Redcrosse, 

Where have you left your Lord, that could so well you tosse ? 

XLIX 

Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had, 

That he my captive languor" should redeeme, 

Till all unweeting, an Enchaunter bad 430 

His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme 

My loyalty, not such as it did seeme ; 

That rather death desire, then such despight. 

Be judge ye heavens, that all things right esteeme, 

How I him lov'd, and love with all my might, 435 

So thought I eke of him, and thinke I thought aright. 



Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, 

To wander, where wilde fortune would me lead, 

And other bywaies he himselfe betooke, 

Where never foot of living wight did tread, 440 

That brought" not backe the balefuU body dead ; 

In which him chaunced false Duessa meete, 

Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread. 

Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete. 

Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete. 445 



CANTO VII 133 

LI 

At last by subtill sleights she him betraid 

Unto his foe, a Gyaiit huge and tall, 
. Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, 

Unvvares surj^rised, and with mighty mall 

The monster mercilesse him made to fall, 450 

Whose fall did never foe before behold ; 

And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, 

Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold ; 
This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be told. 

LII 

Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint : 455 

But he her comforted and faire bespake, 

Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint, 

The stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. 

But be of cheare, and comfort to you take : 

For till I have acquit your captive knight, 460 

Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake. 

His chearefull wordes reviv'd her chearelesse spright, 
So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding ever right. 



134 THE FAERIE QVEENE 



CANTO VIII 

Faire virgin to redeeme her deare 

brings Arthur to the, tight : 
Who slayes that Gyant, looaiides the beast, 

and strips Duessa quight. 



Ay me, how many perils doe enfold 

The righteous man, to make him daily fall, 

Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, 

And stedfast truth acquite him out of all. 

Her love is firme, her care continuall, 5 

So oft as he through his owne foolish pride. 

Or weaknesse is to sinfuU bands made thrall : 

Else should this Redcrosse knight in bands have dydd 

For whose deliverance she this Prince doth thither guide. 

II 

They sadly traveild thus, until they came 10 

Nigh to a castle builded strong and hie : 

Then cryde the Dwarfe, Lo yonder is the same, 

In which my Lord my liege doth lucklesse lie. 

Thrall to that Gyants hateful tyrannic : 

Therefore, deare Sir, your mightie powres assay. 15 

The noble knight alighted by and by 

From loftie steede, and bad the Ladie stay. 
To see what end of fight should him befall that day. 



CANTO VIII 135 



III 



So with the Squire, th' admirer of his might, 

He marched forth towards that castle wall; 20 

Whose gates he found fast shut, ne living wight 

To ward the same, nor answere commers call. 

Then tooke that Squire an horne° of bugle small, 

Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold 

And tassels gay. Wyde wonders over all 25 

Of that same homes great vertues weren told, 

Which had approved bene in uses manifold. 

IV 

Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd. 

But trembling feare did feel in every vaine ; 

Three miles it might be easie heard around, 30 

And Ecchoes three answerd it selfe againe : 

No false enchauntment, nor deceiptfuU traine, 

Might once abide the terror of that blast. 

But presently was voide and wholly vaine : 

No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast, 35 

But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast. 



The same before the Geants gate he blew. 
That all the castle quaked from the ground, 
And every dore of freewill open flew. 
The Gyant selfe dismaied with that sownd, 40 

Where he with his Duessa dalliance fownd, 
In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre. 
With staring countenance sterne, as one astownd, 
And staggering steps, to weet, what suddein stowre, 44 

Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his dreaded powre. 



136 • THE FAERIE QUEENE 



VI 

And after him the proud Duessa came 

High mounted on her many-headed beast; 

And every head with fyrie tongue did flame, 

And every head was crowned on his creast, 

And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast. ° 50 

That when the knight beheld, his mightie shild 

Upon his manly arme he soone addrest, 

And at him fiercely flew, with courage fild, 
And eger greedinesse through every member thrild. 

VII 

Therewith the Gyant buckled him to fight, 55 

Inflam'd with scornefull wrath and high disdaine, 
And lifting up his dreadfull club on hight, 
All arm'd with ragged snubbes and knottie graine, 
Him thought at first encounter to have slaine. 
But wise and wary was that noble Pere, 60 

And lightly leaping from so monstrous maine, 
Did faire avoide the violence him nere ; 

It booted nought to thinke such thunderbolts to beare. 



VIII 

Ne shame he thought to shunne so hideous might : 

The idle stroke, enforcing furious way, 65 

Missing the marke of his misaymed sight 

Did fall to ground, and with his heavie sway 

So deepely dinted in the driven clay. 

That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw : 

The sad earth wounded with so sore assay, 70 

Did grone full grievous underneath the blow. 

And trembling with strange feare, did like an earthquake show. 



CANTO VIII 137 

IX 

As when almightie Jove, in wrathfiiU mood," 
To wreake the guilt of mortall sins is bent, 
Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food, 75 

Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment, 
Through riven cloudes and molten firmament ; 
The fierce threeforked engin making way 
Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent. 
And all that might his angiy passage stay, 80 

And shooting in the earth, casts up a mount of clay. 



His boystrous club, so buried in the ground, 
He could not rearen up againe so light, 
But that the knight him at avantage found, 
And whiles he strove his combred clubbe to quight 85 

Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright 
/He smote off" his left arme, Avhich like a blocke 
/ Did fall to ground, depriv'd of native might ; 
Large streames of bloud out of the truncked stocke 
Forth gushed, like fresh water streame from riven rocke. 90 



XI 

Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound, 
And eke impatient of unwonted paine, 
He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sound, 
That all the fields rebellowed againe ; 
As great a noyse, as wjiien in Cymbrian plaine° 95 

An heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage° doth sting. 
Do for the milkie mothers want complaine, 
And fill the fields with troublous bellowing. 

The neighbour woods around with hollow murmur ring. 



138 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



xn 

That when his deare Diiessa heard, and saw 100 

The evil stownd, that daungerd her estate, 
Unto his aide she hastily did draw 
Her dreadfull beast, who swolne with blood of late 
Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate, 
And threatned all his heads like flaming brands.° 105 

But him the Squire made quickly to retrate, 
Encountring fierce with single sword in hand. 

And twixt him and his Lord did like a bulwarke stand. 

XIII 

The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight, 

And fierce disdaine, to be affronted so, 110 

Enforst her purple beast with all her might 

That stop out of the way to overthroe, 

Scorning the let of so unequall foe : 

But nathemore would that courageous swayne 

To her yeeld passage, gainst his Lord to goe, 115 

But with outrageous strokes did him restraine. 

And with his bodie bard the way atwixt them twaine. 

XIV 

Then tooke the angrie witch her golden cup," 

Which still she bore, replete with magick artes ; 

Death and despeyre did many thereof sup, 120 

And secret poyson through their inner parts, 

Th' eternall bale of heavie wounded harts ; 

Which after charmes and some enchauntments said 

She lightly sprinkled on his weaker parts ; 

Therewith his sturdie courage soone was quayd, 125 

xind all his senses were with suddeine dread dismayd. 



CANTO VIII 139 



XV 



So downe he fell before the cruell beast, 

Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize, 

That life nigh crush t out of his panting hrest : 

No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize, 130 

That when the carefuU knight gan well avise. 

He lightly left the foe, with whom he fought, 

And to the beast gan turne his enterprise ; 

For wondrous anguish in his hart it wronglit. 

To see his loved Squire into such thraldome brought. 135 

XVI 

And high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade, 
Stroke one of those deformed heads so sore. 
That of his puissance proud ensample made ; 
His monstrous scalpe downe to his teeth it tore, 
And that misformed shape mis-shaped more : 140 

A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wound, 
That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore, 
And overflowed all the field around ; 

That over shoes in bloud he waded on the ground. 

XVII 

Thereat he roared for exceeding paine, 145 

That to have heard great horror would have bred. 
And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long traine, 
Through great impatience° of his grieved hed 
His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted 
Would have cast downe, and trod in durtie myre, 150 

Had not the Gyant soone her succoured ; 
Who all enrag'd with smart and franticke yre, 

Came hurtling in full fierce, and forst the kniglit retyre. 



140 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 



The force which wont in two to be disperst, 

In one alone left hancr he now unites, 155 

Which is through rage more strong than both were erst ; 

With which his hideous club aloft he dites, 

And at his foe with furious rigour smites, 

That strongest Oake might seeme to overthrow : 

The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites, 160 

That to the ground it doubleth him full low : 

What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous blow ? 

XIX 

And in his fall his shield," that covered was, 
Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew : 
The light whereof, that heavens light did pas, 165 

Such blazing brightnesse through the aier threw, 
That eye mote not the same endure to vew. 
Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye. 
He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew 
His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye 170 

For to have slaine the man, that on the ground did lye. 

XX 

And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd 
At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield. 
Became starke blind, and all his sences daz'd, 
That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, 175 

And seem'd himselfe as conquered to yield. 
Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall, 
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld. 
Unto the Gyant loudly she gan call, 

helpe Orgoglio, helpe, or else we perish all. 180 



CANTO VIII 141 



XXI 



At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd 

Her champion stout, and for to ayde his frend, 

Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd : 

But all in vaine : for he has read his end 

In that bright shield, and all their forces spend 185 

Themselves in vaine : for since that glauncing sight, 

He had no powre to hurt, nor to defend ; 

As where th' Almighties lightning brond does light. 
It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the senses quight. 

XXII 

Whom when the Prince, to battell new addrest, 190 

And threatning high his dreadfull stroke did see, 
His sparkling blade about his head he blest, 
And smote oft' quite his right leg by the knee. 
That downe he tombled.; as an aged tree, 
High growing on the top of rocky clift, 195 

Whose hartstrings with keene Steele nigh hewen be. 
The mightie trunck halfe rent, w^th ragged rift 

Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefuU drift. 

XXIII 

Or as a Castle reared high and round, 

By subtile engins and malitious slight 200 

Is undermined from the lowest ground. 

And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, 

At last downe falles, and with her heaped hight 

Her hastie mine does more heavie make, 

And yields it selfe unto the victours might ; 205 

Such was this Gyants fall, that seemd to shake 

The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake. 



142 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXIV 

The knight then lightly leaping to the pray, 
With mortall Steele him smot againe so sore, 
That ^^eadle sse his unweldy bodie lay, 210 

All wallowd in his owne fowle bloudy gore. 
Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. 
But soone as breath out of his breast did pas. 
That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore. 
Was vanisht quite, and of that monstrous mas 215 

Was nothing left, but like an emptie bladder was. 



XXV 

Whose grievous fall, when false Duessa spide, 

Her golden cup she cast unto the ground. 

And crowned mitre rudely threw aside ; 

Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound, 220 

That she could not endure that dolefiill stound, 

But leaving all behind her, fled away ; 

The light-foot Squire her quickly turnd around. 

And by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, 
So brought unto his Lord, as his deserved pray. 225 

XXVI 

The royall Virgin which beheld from farre, 
In pensive plight, and sad perplexitie. 
The whole atchievement of this doubtfuU warre, 
Came running fast to greet his victorie, 
With sober gladnesse, and myld modestie, 230 

And with sweet joyous cheare him thus bespake : 
Faire braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie, 
That with your worth th^ world amazed make. 

How shall I quite the paines ye suffer for my sake 1 



CANTO VIII 143 

XXVII 

And you fresh budd of vertue springing fast, 235 

Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deaths dore, 
What hath poore Virgin for such perill past 
Wherewith you to reward 1 Accept therefore 
My simple selfe, and service evermore ; 
And he that high does sit, and all things see 240 

With equall eyes, their merites to restore, 
Behold what ye this day have done for mee, 

And what I cannot quite, requite with usuree. 

XXVIII 

But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling 

Have made you master of the field this day, 245 

Your fortune maister° eke with governing. 

And well begun end all so well, I pray. 

Ne let that wicked woman scape away ; 

For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall, 

My dearest Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay, 250 

Where he his better dayes hath wasted all. 
heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call. 

XXIX 

Forthwith he gave in charge unto his Squire, 

That' scarlot whore to keepen carefully ; 

Whiles he himselfe with greedie great desire 255 

Into the Castle entred forcibly. 

Where living creature none he did espye ; 

Then gan he lowdly through the house to call : 

But no man car'd to answere to his crye. 

There raignd a solenme silence over all, -••'^ 

Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bo^vre or l.all. 



144 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXX 

At last with creeping crooked pace forth came 

An old old man, with beard as white as snow, 

That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame, 

And guide his wearie gate both to and fro : 265 

For his eye sight him failed long ygo. 

And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, 

The which unused rust° did overgrow : 

Those were the keyes of every inner dore, 
But he could not them use, but kept them still in store. 270 

XXXI 

But very uncouth sight was to behold, 
How he did fashion his untoward pace, 
For as he forward moov'd his footing old. 
So backward still was turnd his wrincled face, 
Unlike to men, who ever as they trace, 275 

Both feet and face one way are wont to lead. 
This was the auncient keeper of that place, 
And foster father of the Gyant dead ; 

His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. 

XXXII 

His reverend haires and holy gravitie 280 

The knight much honord, as beseemed well, 
And gently askt, where all the people bee, 
Which in that stately building wont to dwell. 
Who answerd him full soft, he could not tell. 
Again he askt, where that same knight was layd, 285 

Whom great Orgoglio with his puissance fell 
Had made his caytive thrall, againe he sayde, 

He could not tell : ne ever other answere made. 



CANTO VIII 145 



XXXIII 



Then asked he, which way he in might pas : 

He could not tell, againe he answered. 290 

Thereat the curteous knight displeased was. 

And said. Old sire, it seemes thou hast not red 

How ill it sits with that same silver hed. 

In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee : 

But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed 295 

With natures pen,° in ages grave degree, 

Aread in graver wise, what I demaund of thee. 

XXXIV 

His answere likewise was, he could not tell. 
Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance 
When as the noble Prince had marked well, 300 

He ghest his nature by his countenance, 
And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance. 
Then to him stepping, from his arme did reach 
Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. 
Each dore he opened without any breach ; 305 

There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach. 

XXXV 

There all within full rich arrayd he found, 

With royall arras and resplendent gold. 

And did with store of every thing abound. 

That greatest Princes° presence might behold. 310 

But all the floore (too filthy to be told) 

With bloud of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew,° 

Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold. 

Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew. 
And sacred ashes over it was strowed new.° 315 



146 THE FAERIE QIJEENE 



XXXVI 



And there beside of marble stone was built 
An Altare,° carv'd with cunning ymagery, 
On which true Christians bloud was often spilt, 
And holy Martyrs often doen to dye, 
With cruel! malice and strong tyranny : 320 

Whose blessed sprites from underneath the stone 
To God for vengeance cryde continually. 
And with gi"eat griefe were often heard to grone, 

That hardest heart would bleede, to hear their piteous mone. 

XXXVII 

Through every rowme he sought, and every bowr, 325 

But no where could he find that woful thrall : 
At last he came unto an yron doore, 
That fast was lockt, but key found not at all 
Emongst that bounch, to open it withall ; 
But in the same a little grate was pight, 330 

Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call 
With all his powre, to weet, if living wight 

Were housed there within, whom he enlargen might. 

XXXVIII 

Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce 

These pitteous plaints and dolours did resound ; 335 

who is that, which brings me happy choyce 

Of death, that here lye dying every stound. 

Yet live perforce in balefull darkenesse bound 1 

For now three Moones have changed thrice their hew. 

And have been thrice hid underneath the ground, 340 

Since I the heavens chearfull face did vew, 

welcome thou, that doest of death bring tydings trew. 



CANTO VIII 147 



XXXIX 



Which when that Champion heard, with percing point 

Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore, 

And trembling horrour ran through every joynt 345 

For ruth of gentle kniglit so fowle forlore : 

Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore, 

With furious force,- and indignation fell ; 

Where entred in, his foot could find no flore, 

But all a deepe descent, as darke as hell, 350 

That breathed ever forth a filthie banefull smell. 



XL 

But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands, 
Nor noyous smell his purpose could withhold, 
(Entire affection hateth nicer hands) 

But that with constant zeale, and courage bold, 355 

After long paines and labours manifold, 
He found the meanes that Prisoner up to reare ; 
Whose feeble thighes, unhable to uphold 
His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare., 

A rueful! spectacle of death and ghastly drere. 360 

XLI 

His sad dull eyes deepe sunck in hollow pits, 
Could not endure th' unwonted sunne to view ; 
His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits, 
And empty sides deceived of their dew, 
Could make a stony hart his hap to rew ; 365 

His rawbone arines, whose mighty brawned bowrs° 
Were wont to rive Steele plates, and helmets hew, 
AVere cleane consum'd, and all his vitall powres 

Decayd, and all his flesh shronk up like withered flowres. 



148 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLII 

Whom when his Lady saw, to him she ran 370 

With hasty joy : to see him made her glad, 
And sad to view his visage pale and wan. 
Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad. 
Tho when her well of teares she wasted had. 
She said. Ah dearest Lord, what evill starre° 375 

On you hath fround, and pourd his influence bad. 
That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre, 

And this misseeming hew your manly looks doth niarre ? 

XLIII 

But welcome now my Lord, in wele or woe, 

Whose presence I have lackt too long a day ; 380 

And fie on Fortune mine avowed foe,° 

Whose wrathful wreakes them selves doe now alay. 

And for these wrongs shall treble penaunce pay 

Of treble good : good gi'owes of evils priefe.° 

The chearelesse man, whom sorrow did dismay, 385 

Had -no delight to treaten of his griefe ; 

His long endured famine needed more reliefe. 

XLIV 

Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight. 
The things, that grievous were to do, or beare, 
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight ; 390 

Best musicke breeds delight° in loathing eare : 
But th' onely good, that growes of passed feare, 
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. 
This dayes ensample hath this lesson deare 
Deepe written in my heart with yron pen, 395 

That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men. 



CANTO VIII 149 



XLV 

Henceforth sir knight, take to you wonted strength, 
And niaister these mishaps with patient might ; 
Loe where your foe lyes stretcht in monstrous length, 
And loe that wicked woman in your sight, 400 

The roote of all your care, and wretched plight, 
Now in your powre, to let her live, or dye. 
To do her dye (quoth Una) were despight, 
And shame t'avenge so weake an enimy ; 

But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly. 405 

XLVI 

So as she bad, that witch they disaraid. 

And robd of royall robes, and purple pall. 

And ornaments that richly were displaid ; 

Ne spared they to strip her naked all. 

Then when they had despoiled her tire and call, 410 

Such as she was, their eyes might her behold. 

That her misshaped parts did them appall, 

A loathly, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old. 
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told. 



XLIX 

Which when the knights beheld, amazd they were, 415 

And wondred at so fowle deformed wight. 

Such then (said Una) as she seemeth here, 

Such is the face of falshood, such the sight 

Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light 

Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne. 420 

Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight. 

And all her filthy feature open showne. 
They let her goe at will, and wander wayes unknowne. 



150 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



She flying fast from heavens hated face, 

And from the world that her discovered wide, 425 

Fled to the wastfull wildernesse apace, 

From living eyes her open shame to hide, 

And lurkt in rocks and caves long unespide. 

But that faire crew of knights, and Una faire 

Did in that castle afterwards abide, 430 

To rest them selves, and weary powres repaire, 

Where store they found of all that dainty was and rare. 



CANTO IX 151 



CANTO IX 

His loves and lignage Arthur tells: 
the Knights knit friendUi hands: 

Sir Trevisan flies from Despayre, 
ivhom Redcrosse Knight ivithstaiids. 



GOODLY golden chaine,° wherewith yfere 

The vertues linked are in lovely wize : 

And noble mindes of yore allyed were, 

In brave poursuit of chevalrous emprize, 

That none did others safety despize, 5 

Nor aid envy to him, in need that stands, 

But friendly each did others prayse devize. 

How to advaunce with favourable hands. 
As this good Prince redeemd the Redcrosse knight from bands. 



Who when their powres empaird through labour long, 10 

With dew repast they had recured well, 

And that weake captive wight now wexed strong, 

Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell, 

But forward fare, as their adventures fell. 

But ere they parted, Una faire besought 15 

That straunger knight his name and nation tell ; 

Least so great good, as he for her had wrought, 
Should die unknown, and buried be in thanklesse° thought. 



152 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

III 

Faire virgin (said the Prince) ye me require 

A thing without the compas of my wit : 20 

For both the lignage and the certain Sire, 

From which I sprong, from me are hidden yit. 

For all so soone as life did me admit 

Into this world, and shewed heavens light, 

From mothers pap I taken was unfit : 25 

And streight deliver'd to a Faery knight, ° 
To be upbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might. 

IV 

Unto old Timon he me brought bylive, 

Old Timon, who in youtlily yeares hath beene 

In warlike feates th'expertest man alive, 30 

And is the wisest now on earth I weene ; 

His dwelling is low in a valley greene. 

Under the foot of Rauran mossy hore,° 

From whence the river Dee° as silver cleene, 

His tombling billowes roll with gentle rore : 35 

There all my dayes he traind me up in vertuous lore. 



Thither the great magicien Merlin came, 

As was his use, ofttimes to visit me : 

For he had charge my discipline to frame,° 

And Tutours nouriture to oversee. 40 

Him oft and oft I askt in privitie, 

Of what loines and what lignage I did spring : 

Whose aunswere bad me still assured bee, 

That I was sonne and heire unto a king, 
As time in her just terme° the truth to light should bring. 45 



CANTO IX 153 



VI 

Well worthy impe, said then the Lady gent, 

And pupill fit for such a Tutours hand. 

But what adventure, or what high intent 

Hath brought you hither into Faery land, 

Aread Prince Arthur, crowne of Marti all band ? 50 

Full hard it is (quoth he) to read aright 

The course of heavenly cause, or understand 

The secret meaning of th' eternall might, 
That rules mens wayes, and rules the thoughts of living wight. 

VII 

For whether he through fatall deepe foresight 55 

Me hither sent, for cause to me unghest, 

Or that fresh bleeding wound, ° which day and night 

Whilome doth rancle in my riven brest. 

With forced fury° following his behest. 

Me hither brought by wayes yet never found ; 60 

You to have helpt I hold myself yet blest. 

Ah curteous knight (quoth she) what secret wound 
Could ever find,° to grieve the gentlest hart on ground? 

VIII 

Deare dame (quoth he) you sleeping sparkes awake, ° 

Which troubled once, into huge flames will grow, 65 

Ne ever will their fervent fury slake, 

Till living moysture into smoke do flow, 

And wasted life do lye in ashes low. 

Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire, 

But tokr it flames, and hidden it does glow ; 70 

I will revele what ye so much desire : 
Ah Love, lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respire. 



154 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



IX 

It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares, 

When courage first does creepe in manly chest, 

Then first the coale of kindly heat appeares 75 

To kindle love in every living brest ; 

But me had warnd old Timons wise behest, 

Those creeping fiames by reason to subdew. 

Before their rage grew to so great unrest. 

As miserable lovers use to rew, 80 

Which still wex old in woe, whiles woe still wexeth new. 



That idle name of love, and lovers life, 

As losse of time, and vertues enimy, 

I ever scornd, and joyd to stirre up strife, 

In middest of their mournfull Tragedy, 85 

Ay wont to laugh, wlien them I heard to cry, 

And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent : 

Their God himselfe, griev'd at my libertie, 

Shot many a dart at me with fiers intent, 
But I them warded all with waiy government. 90 

XI 

But all in vaine : no fort can be so strong, 
Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sound, 
But will at last be wonue with battrie long. 
Or unawares at disadvantage found : 
Nothing is sure, that growes on earthly ground : 95 

And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might. 
And boasts in beauties chaine not to be bound, 
Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight. 

And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most despight. 



CANTO IX 155 



XII 

Ensample make° of him your haplesse joy, lOO 

And of my selfe now mated, as ye see ; 

Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy 

Did soone pluck downe and curbd my libertie. 

For on a day, prickt forth with joUitie 

Of looser life, and heat of hardiment, 105 

Raunging the forest wide on courser free, 

The fields, the floods, the heavens with one consent 
Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent. 

XIII 

For-wearied with my sports, I did alight 

From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd ; 110 

The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight, 

And pillow was my helmet faire displayd : 

Whiles every sence° the humour sweet embayd, 

And slombring soft my hart did steale away, 

Me seemed, by my side a royall Mayd • 115 

Her daintie linibes full softly down did lay : 

So faire a creature yet saw never sunny day. 

XIV 

Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment 

She to me made, and bad me love her deare ; 

For dearely sure her love was to me bent, 120 

As when just time expired should appeare. 

But whether dreames delude, or true it were, 

Was never hart so ravisht with delight, 

Ne living man like words did ever heare, 

As she to me delivered all that night ; 125 

And at her parting said, She Queene of Faeries bight. 



156 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XV 



When I awoke, and found her place devoyd, 

And nought but pressed gras, where she had lyen, 

I sorrowed all so much as earst I joyd, 

And washed all her place with watry eyen. 130 

From that day forth I lov'd that face divine ; 

From that day forth I cast in carefull mind 

To seeke her out with labour, and long tyne, 

And never vowd to rest till her I find, 

Nine monethes I seeke in vain, yet ni'll that vow unbind. 135 

XVI 

Thus as he spake, his visage wexed pale. 

And chaunge of hew great passion did bewray ; 
Yet still he strove to cloke his inward bale, 
And hide the smoke that did his fire display, 
Till gentle Una thus to him gan say ; 140 

happy Queene of Faeries, that hast found 
• Mongst many, one that with his prowesse may 
Defend thine honour, and thy foes confound : 

True Loves are often sown, but seldom grow on ground. 

XVII 

Thine, then, said the gentle Redcrosse knight, 145 

Next to that Ladies love,° shal be the place, 
fairest virgin, full of heavenly light. 
Whose wondrous faith exceeding earthly race, 
Was firmest fixt° in mine extremest case. 
And you, my Lord, the Patrone of my life, 150 

Of that great Queene may well gaine worthy grace : 
For onely worthy you through prowes priefe, 

Yf living man mote worthie be, to be her liefe. 



CANTO IX 157 



XVIII 

So diversly discoursing of their loves, 

The golden Simne his glistring head gan shew, 155 

And sad remembraunce now the Prince amoves 

With fresh desire his voyage to pursew ; 

Als Una earnd her traveill to renew. 

Then those two knights, fast friendship for to bynd. 

And love establish each to other trew, 160 

Gave goodly gifts, the signes of gratefuU mynd. 

And eke the pledges firme, right hands together joynd. 

XIX 

Prince Arthur gave a boxe of Diamond sure, 
Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament. 
Wherein were closd few drops of liquor pure, 165 

Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent. 
That any wound could heale incontinent : 
W^hich to requite, the Redcrosse knight him gave 
A booke,'^ wherein his Saveours testament 
Was writ with golden letters rich and brave ; 170 

A worke of wondrous grace, and able soules to save. 

XX 

Thus beene they parted, Arthur on his way 
To seeke his love, and th' other for to fight 
With Unaes foe, that all her realme did pray. 
But slie now weighing the decayed plight, 175 

And shrunken synewes of her chosen knight. 
Would not a while her forward course pursew, 
Ne bring him forth in face of dreadfull fight. 
Till he recovered had his former hew : 

For him to be yet weake and wearie well she knew. 180 



158 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXI 



So as they traveikl, lo they gan espy 

An armed knight° towards them gallop fost, 

That seemed from some feared foe to fly, 

Or other griesly thing, that him aghast. 

Still as he fled, his eye was backward cast, 185 

As if his feare still followed him behind ; 

Als flew his steed, as he his bands had l)rast. 

And with his winged heeles did tread the wind, 
As he had beene a fole of Pegasus° his kind. 

XXII 

Nigh as he drew, they might perceive his head 190 

To be unarmd, and curld uncombed heares 
Upstaring stifle, dismayd with uncouth dread ; 
Nor drop of blond in all his face appeares 
Nor life in limbe : and to increase his feares 
In fowle reproch of knighthoods faire degree, 195 

About his neck an hempen rope he weares. 
That with his glistring armes does ill agree ; 

But he of rope or armes has now no memoree. 

XXIII 

Tlie Redcrosse knight toward him crossed fast. 

To weet, what mister wight was so dismayd : 200 

There him he finds all sencelesse and aghast. 

That of him selfe he seemd to be afrayd ; 

Whom hardly he from flying forward stayd. 

Till he these wordes to him deliver might ; 

Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus arayd, 205 

And eke from whom make ye this hasty fliglit : 

For never knight I saw in such misseeming plight. 



CANTO IX 159 

XXIV 

He answerd nought at all, but adding new 

Feare to his first amazment, staring wide 

With stony eyes, and hartlesse hollow hew, 210 

Astonisht stood, as one that had aspide 

Infernall furies, with their chaines untide. 

Him yet againe, and yet againe bespake 

The gentle knight ; who nought to him replide. 

But trembling every joint did inly quake, 215 

And foltring tongue at last these words seemd forth to shake. 

XXV 

For Gods deare love, Sir knight, do me not stay ; 

For loe he comes, he comes fast after mee. 

Eft looking back would faine have runne away ; 

But he him forst to stay, and tellen free 220 

The secret cause of his perplexitie : 

Yet nathemore by his bold hartie speach 

Could his bloud-frosen hart emboldned bee, 

But through his boldnesse rather feare did reach, 
Yet forst, at last he made through silence suddein breach. 225 

XXVI 

And am I now in safetie sure (quoth he) 

From him, that would have forced me to dye 1 

And is the point of death now turnd fro mee. 

That I may tell this haplesse history 1 

Feare nought : (quoth he) no daunger now is nye. 230 

Then shall I you recount a ruefull cace, 

(Said he) the which with this unlucky eye 

I late beheld, and had not greater grace° 
Me reft from it, had bene partaker of the place. 



160 THE FAEBIE QUEENE 

XXVII 

I lately chaunst (would I had never chaunst) 235 

With a faire knight to keepen companee, 

Sir Terwin hight, that well himselfe advaunst 

In all affaires, and was both bold and free, 

But not so happy as mote happy bee : 

He lov'd, as was his lot, a Ladie gent, 240 

That him againe lov'd in the least degree : 

For she was proud, and of too high intent, 
And joyd to see her lover languish and lament. 

XXVIII 

From whom returning sad and comfortlesse, 

As on the way together we did fare, 245 

We met that villen (God from liim me blesse) 

That cursed wight, from whom I scapt whyleare, 

A man of hell, that cals himselfe Despaire : 

Who first us greets, and after faire areedes° 

Of ty dings strange, and of adventures rare : 250 

So creeping close, as Snake in hidden weedes, 

Inquireth of our states, and of our knightly deedes. 

XXIX 

Which when he knew, and felt our feeble harts 
Embost with bale, and bitter byting griefe. 
Which love had launched with his deadly darts, 255 

With wounding words and termes of foule repriefe, 
He pluckt from us all hope of due reliefe. 
That earst us held in love of lingring life ; 
Then hopelesse hartlesse, gan the cunning thiefe 
Perswade us die, to stint all further strife : 260 

To me he lent this rope, to him a rustie knife, 



cAmo IX 161 



XXX 

With which sad instrument of hasty death, 
That wofull lover, loathing leuger light, 
A wide way made to let forth living bieath. 
But I more fearfull, or more luckie wight, 265 

Dismayd with that deformed dismall sight, 
Fled fast away, halfe dead with dying feare : ° 
Ne yet assur'd of life by you, Sir knight, 
Whose lil^e infirmitie° like chaunce may beare : 

But God° you never let his charmed speeches heare. 270 

XXXI 

How may a man (said he) with idle speach 
Be wonne, to spoyle the Castle of his health ? ° 
I wote° (quoth he) whom triall late did teach, 
That like would not for all this worldes wealth : 
His subtill tongue, like dropping honny, mealt'h° 275 

Into the hart, and searcheth every vaine ; 
That ere one be aware, by secret stealth 
His powi'e is reft, and weaknesse doth remaine. 

never Sir desire to try his guileful! traine. 

XXXII 

Certes (said he) hence shall I never rest, 280 

Till I that treacherours art have heard and tride ; 

And you Sir knight, whose name mote I request, 

Of grace do me unto his cabin guide. 

I that hight Trevisan (quoth he) will ride, 

Against my liking backe, to do you grace : 285 

But not for gold nor glee° will I abide 

By you, when ye arrive in that same place 
For lever had I die, then see his deadly face. 



162 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIII 



Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight 

His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave, 290 

Farre underneath a craggie clift ypight, 

Darke, dolefull, drearie, like a greedy grave, 

That still for carrion carcases doth crave : 

On top whereof aye dwelt the ghastly Owle,° 

Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave 295 

Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle ; 

And all about it wandring ghostes did waile and howle. 

XXXIV 

And all about old stockes and stubs of trees, 
Whereon nor fruit nor leafe was ever scene, 
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees ; 300 

On which had many wretches hanged beene. 
Whose carcases were scattered on the greene. 
And throwne about the clifts. Arrived there, 
That bare-head knight for dread and dolefull teene. 
Would faine have tied, ne durst approchen neare, 305 

But th' other forst him stay, and comforted in feare. 

XXXV 

That darkesome cave they enter, where they find 

That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, 

Musing full sadly in his sullein mind ; 

His griesie lockes, long growen, and unbound, 310 

Disordred hong about his shoulders round, 

And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne 

Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound ; 

His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine, 
Were shronke into his jawes, as° he did never dine. 315 



CANTO IX 163 

XXXVI 

His garment nought but many ragged clouts, 
With thornes together pincl and patched was, 
The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts ; 
And him beside there lay upon the gras 
A drearie corse, ° whose life away did pas, 320 

All wallowed in his owne yet luke-wariiie blood, 
That from his wound yet welled fresh alas ; 
In which a rustie knife fast fixed stood, 

And made an ojDen passage for the gushing flood. 

XXXVII 

Which piteous spectacle, approving trew 325 

The wofuU tale that Trevisan had told. 

When as the gentle Redcrosse knight did vew. 

With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold, 

Him to avenge, before his bloud were cold. 

And to the villein said. Thou damned wight, 330 

The author of this fact we here behold. 

What justice can but judge against tliee right,° 
With thine owne bloud to price° his bloud, here shed in sight. 

XXXVIII 

What franticke fit (quoth he) hath thus distraught 

Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give ? 335 

. What justice^ ever other judgement taught. 
But he should die, who merites not to live ? 
None else to death this man despayring drive. 
But his owne guiltie mind deserving death. 
Is then unjust° to each his due to give ? 340 

Or let him die, that loatheth living breath 1 

Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath ? 



164 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXIX ' 

Who travels by the wearie waiidring way,° 
To come unto his wished home in haste, 
And meetes a flood, that doth his passage stay, 345 

Is not great grace to helpe him over past, 
Or free his feet that in the myre sticke fast? 
Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours good, 
And fond, that joy est in the woe thou hast, 
Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood 350 

Upon the banke, yet wilt thy selfe not passe the flood ? 

XL 

He there does now enjoy eternall rest 

And happy ease, which thou dost want and crave, 

And further from it daily wanderest : 

What if some little paine the passage have, 355 

That makes fraile flesh to feare the bitter wave? 

Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease, 

And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave ? 

Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas. 

Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please. 360 

XLI 

The knight much wondred at his suddeine wit,° 
And said, The terme of life is limited, 
Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten it ; 
The souldier may not move from watchfull sted, 
Nor leave his stand, untill his Captaine bed. 365 

Who life did limit by almightie doome i 

(Quoth he)° knowes best the termes established ; / 

And he, that points the Centonell his roome, .' 

Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome. / 



CANTO IX 165 



XLII 



Is not his deed, what ever thing is donne 370 

In heaven and earth ? did not he all create 

To die againe 1 all ends that was begonne. 

Their times in his eternall booke of fate 

Are written sure, and have their certaine date. 

Who then can strive with strong necessitie, 375 

That holds the world in his still chaunging state. 

Or shunne the death ordaynd by destinie ? 
When houre of death is come, let none aske whence, nor why. 

XLIII 

The lenger life, I wote the greater sin, 

The greater sin, the greater punishment : 380 

A]l those great battels, which thou boasts to win, 

Through strife, and blood-shed, and avengement. 

Now praysd, hereafter deare thou shalt repent : 

For life must life, and blood must blood repay. 

Is not enough thy evill life forespent 1 385 

For he that once hath missed the right way. 

The further he doth goe, the further he doth stray. 

XLIV 

Then do no further goe, no further stray. 
But here lie downe, and to thy rest betake, 
Th' ill to prevent, that life ensewen may. 390 

For what hath life, that may it loved make, 
And gives not rather cause it to forsake 1 
Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife, 
Paine, hunger, cold, that makes the hart to quake ; 
And ever fickle fortune rageth rife, 395 

All which, and thousands mo do make a loathsome life. 



166 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLV 



Thou wretched man, of death hast greatest need, 
If in true ballance thou wilt weigh thy state : 
For never knight, that dared warlike deede, 
More lucklesse disaventures did amate : 400 

Witnesse the dungeon deepe, wherein of late 
Thy life shut up, for death so oft did call ; 
And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date,° 
Yet death then would the like mishaps forestall, 

Into the which hereafter thou maiest happen fall. 405 

XLVI 

Why then doest thou, man of sin, desire 

To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree ? 

Is not the measure of thy sinfull hire° 

High lieaped up with huge iniquitie, 

Against the day of wrath, to burden thee 1 410 

Is not enough, that to this Ladie milde 

Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjurie. 

And sold thy selfe to serve Duessa vilde. 
With whom in all abuse thou hast thy selfe defilde ? 

XLVII 

Is not he just, that all this doth behold 415 

From highest heaven, and beares an equall eye ? 

Shall he thy sins up in his knowledge fold, 

And guilty be of thine impietie ? 

Is not his law, Let every sinner die : 

Die shall all flesh ? what then must needs be donne, 420 

Is it not better to doe willinglie, 

Then linger, till the glasse be all out ronne 1 
Death is the end of woes : die soone, O faeries sonne. 



CANTO IX 167 



XLVIII 



The knight was much eiimoved with his speach, 

That as a swords point through his hart did perse, 425 

And in his conscience made a secret breach, 

Well knowing true all that he did reherse, 

And to his fresh remembraunce did reverse 

The ugly vew of his deformed crimes, 

That all his manly powres it did disperse, 430 

As he were charme(l° with inchaunted rimes, 

That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes. 

XLIX 

In which amazement, when the Miscreant 
Perceived him to waver weake and fraile. 
Whiles trembling horror did his conscience dant, 435 

And hellish anguish did his soule assaile. 
To drive him to despaire, and quite to quaile. 
He shew'd him painted in a table*^ plaine. 
The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile. 
And thousand feends that doe them endlesse paine 440 

With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine. 



The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid. 

That nought but death before his eyes he saw, 

And ever burning wrath before him laid. 

By righteous sentence of th' Almighties law. 445 

Tlien gan the villein him to overcraw. 

And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison, fire. 

And all that might him to perdition draw ; 

And bad him choose, what death he would desire : 
For death was due to him, that had provokt Gods ire. 450 



168 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LI 

But when as none of them he saw him take, 
He to him raiight a dagger sharpe and keene, 
And gave it him in hand : his hand did quake, 
And tremble Hke a leafe of Aspin greene. 
And troubled bloud through his pale face was seene 455 
To come, and goe with tidings from the heart. 
As it a, running messenger had beene. 
At last resolv'd to worke his finall smart. 

He lifted up his hand, that backe againe did start. 

LII 

Which whenas Una saw, through every vaine 460 

The crudled cold ran to her well of life, 

As in a swowne : but soone reliv'd againe. 

Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife, 

And threw it to the ground, enraged rife, 

And to him said. Fie, fie, faint harted knight, 465 

What meanest thou by this reprochfull strife ? 

Is this the battell, which thou vauntst to fight 
With that fire-mouthed Dragon, ° horrible and bright? 

LIII 

Come, come away, fraile, seely, fleshly wight, 

Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart, 470 

Ne divelish thoughts dismay thy constant spright. 

In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part ? 

Why shouldst thou then despeire, that chosen art ? ° 

Where justice growes, there grows eke greater grace, 

The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart, 475 

And that accurst hand-writing° doth deface. 

Arise, Sir knight, arise, and leave this cursed place. 



CANTO IX 169 



LIV 

So up he rose, and thence amounted streight. 

Which when the carle beheld, and saw his guest 

Would safe depart for all his subtill sleight, 480 

He chose an halter from among the rest. 

And with it hung himselfe, unhid unblest. 

But death he could not worke himselfe thereby ; 

For thousand times he so himselfe had drest,° 

Yet nathelesse it could not doe him die, 485 

Till he should die his last, that is, eternally. 



170 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



CANTO X 

Her faithfull knight f aire Una brings 

to house of Holinesse, 
Where he is taught repentance, and 

the way to heavenly blesse. 



What man is he, that boasts of fleshly might 

And vaiiie assurance of mortality, 

Which all so soone as it doth come to figlit 

Against spirituall foes, yeelds by and by. 

Or from the field most cowardly doth fly ? 5 

Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill, 

That thorough grace hath gained victory. 

If any strength we have, it is to ill, 
But all the good is Gods, both power and eke will. 

II 

But that, which lately hapned, Una saw, 10 

That this her knight was feeble, and too faint ; 
And all his sinews woxen Aveake and raw, 
Through long enprisonment, and hard constraint. 
Which he endured in his late restraint, 
That yet he was unfit for bloudy figlit : 15 

Therefore to cherish him with diets daint, 
She cast to bring him, where he cheareii might, 

Till he recovered had his late decayed plight. 



CANTO X 171 



III 

There was an aimtieut hoiise° not farre away, 

Renowmd throughout the world for sacred lore, 20 

And pure unspotted life : so well they say 

It governd was, and guided evermore. 

Through wisedome of a matrone grave and hore 

Whose onely joy was to relieve the needes 

Of wretched soules, and helpe the helpelesse pore : 25 

All night she spent in bidding of her bedes, 
And all the day in doing good and godly deedes. 

IV 

Dame Coelia° men did her call, as thought 
From heaven to come, or thither to arise. 
The mother of three daughters, well upbrought 30 

In goodly thewes, and godly exercise : 
The eldest two, most sober, chast, and wise, 
Fidelia° and Speranza virgins were, 
Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize : 
But faire Charissa° to a lovely fere 35 

Was lincked, and by him had many pledges dere. 



Arrived there, the dore they find fast lockt ; 
For it was warely watched night and day. 
For feare of many foes : but when they knockt, 
The Porter opened unto them streight way ; 40 

He was an aged syre, all hory gray. 
With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow. 
Wont on a staife his feeble steps to stay, 
Hight Humilta.° They passe in stouping low ; 

For streight and narrow was the way which he did show. 45 



172 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



VI 



Each goodly thing is hardest to begin, 
But entred in a spacious court they see, 
Both plaine, and pleasant to be walked in, 
Where them does meete a francklin faire and free, 
And entertaines with comely courteous glee, 50 

His name was Zele, that him right well became, 
For in his speeches and behaviour hee 
Did labour lively to expresse the same. 

And gladly did them guide, till to the Hall they came. 

VII 

There fairely them receives a gentle Squire, 65 

Of milde demeanure, and rare courtesie, 

Right cleanly clad in comely sad attire ; 

In word and deede that shew'd great modestie. 

And knew his good° to all of each degree, 

Hight Reverence. He them with speeches meet 60 

Does faire entreat ; no courting nicetie, 

But simple true, and eke unfained sweet, 
As might become a Squire so great persons to greet. 

VIII 

And afterwards them to his Dame he leades, 

That aged Dame, the Ladie of the place : 65 

Who all this while was busy at her beades : 

Which doen, she up arose with seemely grace, 

And toward them full matronely did pace. 

Where when that fairest Una she beheld, 

Whom well she knew to spring from heavenly race, 70 

Her hart with joy unwonted inly sweld. 
As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld. 



CANTO X 173 



IX 

And her embracing said, happie earth, 

AVhereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread, 

Most vertuous virgin borne of heavenly berth, 75 

That, to redeeme thy woeftdl parents head, 

From tyrans rage, and ever-dying dread,° 

Hast wandred through the world now long a day ; ° 

Yet ceasest not thy weary soles to lead,° 

What grace hath thee now hither brought this way ? 80 
Or doen thy feeble feet unweetiug hither stray 1 



Strange thing it is an errant knight to see 
Here in this place, or any other wight, 
That hither turnes his steps. So few there bee 
That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right : 85 

All keepe the broad high way, and take delight 
With many rather for to go astray. 
And be partakers of their evill plight. 
Then with a few to walke the rightest way ; 

foolish men, why haste ye to your owne decay ? 90 

XI 

Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to rest, 
matrone sage (quoth she) I hither came ; 
And this good knight his way witli me addrest, 
Led with thy prayses and broad-blazed fame. 
That up to heaven is blowne. The auncient Dame 95 
Him goodly greeted in her modest guise. 
And entertaynd them both, as best became, 
With all the court'sies that she could devise, 

Ne wanted ought, to shew her bounteous or wise. 



174 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XII 



Thus as they gan of sundry things devise, 100 

Loe two most goodly virgins came in place, 
Ylinked arme in arme in lovely wise, 
AVith countenance demure, and modest grace, 
They numbred even steps and equall pace : 
Of which the eldest, that Fidelia hight, 105 

Like sunny beames threw from her christall face, 
That could have dazd the rash beholders sight. 

And round about her head did shine like heavens light. 

XIII 

She was araied all in lilly white, ° 

And in her right hand bore a cup of gold, 110 

With wine and water fild up to the hight. 

In which a Serpent did himselfe enfold, 

That horrour made to all that did behold ; 

But she no whit did chaunge her constant mood : 

And in lier other hand she fast did hold 115 

A booke, that was both signd and seald with blood : 
Wherin da.rke things were writ, hard to be understood. 

XIV 

Her younger sister, that Speranza hight, 

Was clad in blew, that her beseemed well ; 

Not all so chearefuU seemed she of sight, 120 

As was her sister ; whether dread did dwell, 

Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell : 

Upon her arme a silver anchor lay. 

Whereon she leaned ever, as befell : 

And ever up to heaven, as she did pray, 125 

Her stedfast eyes were bent, ne swarved other way. 



CANTO X 175 



XV 



They seeing Una, towards her gan wend, 
Who them encounters with like courtesie ; 
Many kind speeches they betwene thenl spend, 
And greatly joy each other well to see : 130 

Then to the knight with shamefast modestie 
They turne themselves, at Unaes meeke request, 
And him salute with well beseeming glee ; 
Who faire them quites, as him beseemed best, 

And goodly gan discourse of many a noble gest. 135 

XVI 

Then Una thus ; But she your sister deare, 
The deare Charissa where is she become 1 
Or wants she health, or busie is elsewhere 1 
Ah no, said they, but forth she may not come : 
For she of late is lightned of her wombe, 140 

And hath encreast the world with one sonne more, 
That her to see should be but troublesome. 
Indeed (quoth she) that should be trouble sore ; 

But thankt be God, and her encreasc° so evermore. 

XVII 

Then said the aged Coelia, Deare dame, 145 

And you good Sir, I wote that of youre toyle. 
And labours long, through which ye hither came, 
Ye both forwearied be : therefore a whyle 
I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle. 
Then called she a Groome, that forth him led 150 

Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoile 
Of puissant amies, and laid in easie bed ; 

His name was meekc Obedience rightfully ared. 



176 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 

Now when their wearie limbes with kindly rest, 

And bodies were refresht with due repast, 155 

Faire Una gan Fidelia faire request, 

To have her knight into her schoolehouse plaste, 

That of her heavenly learning he might taste, 

And heare the wisedom of her words divine. 

She graunted, and that knight so much agraste, 160 

That she him taught celestiall discipline. 

And opened his dull eyes, that light mote in them shine. 

XIX 

And that her sacred Booke, with blood ywrit. 

That none could read, except she did them teach, 

She unto him disclosed every whit, 165 

And heavenly documents thereout did preach. 

That weaker wit of man could never reach. 

Of God, of grace, of justice, of free will, 

That wonder was to heare her goodly speach : 

For she was able with her words to kill, 170 

And raise againe to life the hart that she did thrill. 

XX 

And when she list° poure out her larger spright. 
She woidd commaund the hastie Sunne to stay. 
Or backward turne his course from heavens bight ; 
Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay ; 175 

[Dry-shod to passe she parts the flouds in tway ;°J 
And eke huge mountaines from their native seat 
She would commaund, themselves to beare away. 
And throw in raging sea with roaring threat. 

Almightie God her gave such powre, and puissaunce great. 180 



CANTO X 111 



XXI 



The faithfull knight now grew in litle space, 

By li earing her, and by her sisters lore, 

To such perfection of all heavenly grace, 

That wretched world he gan for to abhore. 

And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore, 185 

Greevd with remembrance of his wicked wayes, 

And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore, 

That he desirde to end bis wretched dayes : 
So much the dart of sinfidl guilt the soule dismayes. 

XXII 

But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet, 190 

And taught him how to take assured hold 

Upon her silver anchor, as was meet ; 

Else had his sinnes so great and manifold 

Made him forget all that Fidelia told. 

In this distressed doubtfull agonie, 195 

When him his dearest Una did behold, 

Disdeining life, desiring leave to die, 
She found her selfe assayld with great perplexitie. 

XXIII 

And came to Coelia to declare her smart. 

Who well acquainted with that commune plight, 200 

Which sinful 1 hoiTor workes in wounded hart. 

Her wisely comforted all that she might, 

With goodly counsell and advisement right ; 

And streightway sent with carefuU diligence. 

To fetch a Leach, the which had great insight 205 

In that disease of grieved conscience, 

And well could cure the same ; his name was Patience. 



178 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXIV 

Who comming to that soule-diseased knight, 
Could hardly him iiitreat° to tell his griefe : 
Which knowne, and all that noyd his heavie spright 210 
Well searcht, eftsoones he gau apply relief 
Of salves and nied'cines, which had passing priefe, 
(And thereto added words of wondrous might f "^ 
By which to ease he him recured briefe, 
And much aswag'd the passion of his plight, ° 215 

That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now more light. 

XXV 

But yet the cause and root of all his ill, 
Inward corruption and infected sin, 
Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still, 
And festring sore did rankle yet within, 220 

Close creeping twixt the marrow and the skin. 
Which to extirpe, he laid him privily 
Downe in a darkesome lowly place farre in. 
Whereas he meant his corrosives to apply. 

And with streight diet tame his stubborne malady. 225 

XXVI 

In ashes and sackcloth he did array 

His daintie corse, proud humors to abate, 

And dieted with fasting every day. 

The swelling of his wounds to mitigate. 

And made him pray both earely and eke late : 230 

And ever as superfluous flesh did rot 

Amendment readie still at hand did wayt. 

To pluck it out with pincers firie wliot, 
That soone in him was left no one corrupted jot. 



CANTO X 179 



xxvn 

And bitter Penance with an yron whip, 235 

Was wont him once to disple every day : 

And sharpe Remorse his hart did pricke and nip, 

Tliat drops of blood thence like a well did play ; 

And sad Repentance used to embay 

His bodie in salt water smarting sore, 240 

The filthy blots of sinne to wash away. 

So in short space they did to health restore 
The man that would not live, but earst lay at deathes dore. 

XXVIII 

In Avhich his torment often was so great. 

That like a Lyon he would cry and rore, 245 

And rend his flesh, and his owne synewes eat. 

His owne deare Una hearing evermore 

His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore 

Her guiltlesse garments, and her golden heare. 

For pitty of his paine and anguish sore ; 250 

Yet all with patience wisely she did beare ; 

For well she wist his crime could else be never cleare. 

XXIX 

Whom thus recover'd by wise Patience 

And trew Repentaunce they to Una brought : 

Who joyous of his cured conscience, 255 

Him dearely kist, and fairely eke besought 

Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thoughL^^ — — 

To put away out of his carefull brest. 

By this Charissa, late in child-bed brought, 



Was woxen strong, and left lier fruitfuU nest ; 2(iO 

To her faire Una brought this luiacquainted guest. 



180 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXX 

She was a woman in her freshest age,° 
Of wondrous beauty, and of bountie rare, 
With goodly grace and comely personage, 
That was on earth not easie to compare ; 265 

Full of great love, but Cupid's wanton snare 
As hell she hated, chast in worke and will ; 
Her necke and breasts were ever open bare, 
That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill ; 

The rest was all in yellov/ robes arayed still. 270 

XXXI 

A multitude of babes about her hong, 

Playing their sports, that joyd her to behold, 

Whom still she fed, whiles they were weake and young. 

But thrust them forth still as they wexed old : 

And on her head slie wore a tyre of gold, 275 

Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous faire, 

Whose passing price° luieath was to be told : 

And by her side there sate a gentle paire 

Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvorie chaire. 

XXXII 

The knight and Una entring faire her greet, 280 

And bid her joy of that her happie brood ; 

Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet, 

And entertaines with friendly chearefuU mood. 

Then Una her besought, to be so good 

As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight, 285 

Now after all his torment well withstood. 

In that sad house of Penaunce, where his spright 
Had past the paines of hell, and long enduring night. 



CANTO X 181 



XXXIII 



She was right joyous of her just request, 

And taking by the hand that Faeries sonne, 290 

Gan him instruct in every good behest, 

Of love, and righteousnesse, and well to donne,° 

And wrath, and hatred warely to shonne, 

That drew on men Gods hatred and his wrath. 

And many soules in dolours had fordonne : 295 

In which when him she well instructed hath. 

From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path. 



Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guide, 

An auncient matrone she to her does call. 

Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descride : 300 

Her name was Mercie, well knowne over all. 

To be both gratious, and eke liberall : 

To whom the careful! charge of him she gave, 

To lead aright, that he should never fall 

In all his wayes through this wide worldes wave, 305 

That Mercy in the end his righteous soule might save. 

XXXV 

The godly Matrone by the hand him beares 
Forth from her presence, by a narrow way, 
Scattred with bushy thornes, and ragged breares, 
Which still before him she remov'd away, 310 

That nothing might his ready passage stay : 
And ever when his feet encombred were, 
Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray. 
She held him fast, and firmely did upbeare. 

As carefuU Nourse her child from fallinof oft does reare. 315 



182 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXVI 

Eftsoones unto an holy Hospitall, 

That was fore by the way, she did him bring, 
In which seven Bead-men° that had vowed all 
Their life to service of high heavens king. 
Did spend their dayes in doing godly thing : 
Their gates to all were open evermore, 
That by the wearie way were traveiling, 
And one sate wayting ever them before. 

To call in commers by, that needy were and pore. 

XXXVII 

The first of them that eldest was, and best. 
Of all the house had charge and governement, 
As Guardian and Steward of the rest : 
His office was to give entertainement 
And lodging, unto all that came, and went : 
Not unto such, as could him feast againe, 
And double quite, for that he on them spent, 
But such, as want of harbour did constraine : 

Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine. 

XXXVIII 

The second was as Almner of the place, 
His office was, the hungry for to feed. 
And thristy give to drinke, a worke of grace : 
He feard not once him selfe to be in need, 
Ne car'd to hoord for those whom he did breede : 
The grace of God he layd up still in store. 
Which as a stocke he left unto his seede ; 
He had enough, what need him care for more ? 

And had he lesse, yet some he would give to the pore. 



CANTO X 183 



XXXIX 



The third had of then- wardrobe custodie, 

111 which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay, 

The phimes of jjride, and wings of vanitie, 345 

But clothes meet to keepe keene could away, 

And naked nature seemely to aray ; 

With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad, 

The images of God in earthly clay ; 

And if that no spare cloths to give he had, 350 

His owne coate he would cut, and it distribute glad. 

XL 

The fourth appointed by his office was, 

Poore prisoners to relieve with gratious ayd, 
And captives to redeeme with price of bras,° 
fFxom Turkes° and Sarazins, which them had stayd^; 355 
And though they faultie were, yet well he wayd, 
That God to us forgiveth every howTe 
Much more then that why they in bands were layd. 
And he that harrowd° hell with heavie stowre, 

The faultie soules from thence brought to his heavenly bowrc. 

XLI 

The fift had charge sicke persons to attend, ^ 361 

And comfort those, in point of death which lay ; 
For them most needeth comfort in the end, 
When sin, and hell, and death do most dismay 
The feeble soule departing hence away. 365 

All is but lost, that living we bestow. 
If not well ended at our dying day. 
man have mind of that last bitter throw 

For as the tree does fall, so lyes it ever low. 



184 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLII 



•'or<-t-T.>.-C*JC 



The sixt had charge of them now being dead, ^ " 370 

In seemely sort their corses to engrave, 
And deck with dainty flowres their bridall bed. 
That to their heavenly spouse both sweet and brave 
They might appeare, when he their soules shall save.° 
The wondrous workmanship of Grods owne mould, 375 

Whose face he made all beasts to feare, and gave 
All in his hand, even dead we honour should. 

Ah dearest God me graunt, I dead be not defould.° 

XLIII 

The seventh, now after death and buriall done. 

Had charge the tender orphans of the dead 380 

And widowes ayd,° least they should be undone : 

In face of judgement" he their right would plead, 

Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread 

In their defence, nor would for gold or fee 

Be wonne their rightful! causes downe to tread : 385 

And, when they stood in most necessitee. 

He did supply their want, and gave them ever free. 

XLIV 

There when the Elfin knight arrived was. 

The first and chiefest of tlie seven, whose care 

Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas : 390 

Where seeing Mercie, that his steps upbare. 

And alwayes led,' to her with reverence rare 

He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse. 

And seemely welcome for her did prepare : 

For of their order she was Patronesse, 395 

Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesse. 



CANTO X 185 

XLV 

There she awhile him stayes, him selfe to rest, 

That to the rest more able he might bee : 

During which time, in every good behest 

And godly worke of almes and charitee, 400 

She him instructed with great industree ; 

Shortly therein so perfect he became, 

That from the first unto the last degree, 

His mortall life he learned had to frame 
In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame. 405 

XLVI 

Thence forward by that painfull way they pas, 

Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy j 

On top whereof a sacred chappell was, 

And eke a little Hermitage thereby, 

Wherein an aged holy man did lye, 410 

That day and night said his devotion, 

Ne other worldly busines did apply ; 

His name was heavenly Contemplation ; 
Of God and goodnesse was his meditation. 

XLVII 

Great grace that old man to him given had ; 415 

For God he often saw from heavens hight. 
All were his earthly eyen both blunt and bad. 
And through great age had lost their kindly sight, 
Yet wondrous quick and persant was his spright. 
As Eagles eye, that can behold the Sunne : 420 

That hill they scale with all their powre and might, 
That his° fraile thighes nigh weary and fordonne 

Gan faile, but by her° helpe the top at last he wonne. 



186 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLVIII 

There they do finde that godly aged Sire, 

With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed, 425 

As hoarie frost with spangles doth attire 

The mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded. 

Each bone might through his body well be red. 

And every sinew seene through his long fast : 

For nought he car'd° his carcas long unfed ; 430 

His mind was full of spirituall repast, 
And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body low and chast. 

XLIX 

Who when these two approaching he aspide. 

At their first presence grew agrieved sore, 

That forst him lay his heavenly thoughts aside ; 435 

And had he not that Dame respected more, 

Whom highly he did reverence and adore. 

He would not once have moved for the knight. 

They him saluted, standing far afore ; 

Who well them greeting, humbly did requight, 440 

And asked, to what end they clomb that tedious height. 



What end (quoth she) should cause us take such paine, 
But that same end which every living wight 
Should make his marke, high heaven to attaine 1 
Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right 445 

To that most glorious house that glistreth bright 
With burning starres and everliving fire, 
Whereof the keyes are to thy hand behight 
By wise Fidelia ? She doth thee require. 

To show it to his knight, according his desire. 450 



CANTO X 187 



LI 



Thrise happy man, said then the father grave, 

AVhose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead, 

• And shewes the way, his sinfull soule to save. 
Who better can the way to heaven aread, 
Then thou thy selfe, that was both boi-ne and bred 455 
In heavenly throne, where thousand Angels shine ? 
Thou doest the prayers of the righteous sead 
Present before the majestie divine. 

And his avenging wrath to clemencie incline. 

LIT 

Yet since thou bidst, thy pleasure shal be donne. 460 

Then come thou man of earth, and see the way, 

That never yet was scene of Faeries sonne. 

That never leads the traveller astray, 

But after labors long, and sad delay, 

Brings them to joyous rest and endlesse blis. 405 

But first thou must a season fast and pray. 

Till from her bands the spright assoiled is, 
And have her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis. 

LIII 

That donne, he leads him to the highest Mount ; 

Such one as that same mighty man° of God, 470 

That blood-red billowes° like a walled front ' ^^ -'^'^ 

On either side disparted with his rod. 

Till that his army dry-foot through them yod, 

Dwelt forty dayes upon ; where writ in stone 

With bloudy letters by the hand of God, 475 

The bitter doome of death and balefull mone 

He did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone. 



188 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

^ ' LIV 

Or like that sacred hill,° whose head full hie, 
Adornd with fruitfull Olives all arownd, 
Is, as it were for endlesse memory 480 

Of that deare Lord who oft thereon was fownd, 
For ever with a fiowring girlond crownd : 
Or like that pleasaunt Mount,° that is for ay "Vc^waA^ia^ 
Through famous l^oets verse each where reiiownd, 
On which the thrise three learned Ladies play 485 

Their heavenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay. 



From thence, far off he unto him did shew 

A litle path, that was both steepe and long, -^^^^ 

Which to a goodly Citie° led his vew ; Va - <^-'* "^ 
Whose wals and towres were builded high and strong 490 
Of perle and precious stone, that earthly tong 
Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell ; 
Too high a ditty for my simple song ; 
The Oitie of the great king hight it well, 

Wherein eternaU peace and happinesse doth dwell. 495 

LVI 

As he thereon stood gazing, he might see 
The blessed Angels to and fro descend 
From highest heaven in gladsome companee. 
And with great joy into that Citie wend. 
As commonly as friend does with his frend. 500 

Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere, 
AVhat stately building durst so high extend 
Her loftie towres unto the starry sphere. 

And what unknowen nation there empeopled were. 



CANTO X 189 



Faire knight (quoth he) Hiemsalem that is, 505 

The new Hierusalem, that God has built 

For those to dwell in, that are chosen his. 

His chosen people purg'd from sinfull guilt 

AVith pretious blood, which cruelly was spilt 

On cursed tree, of that unspotted lam, 510 

That for the sinnes of al the world was kilt : 

Now are they Saints all in that Citie sam. 
More dear unto their God then younglings to their dam. 

LVIII 

Till now, said then the knight, I weened well, 

That great Cleopolis,° where I have beene, 515 

In which that fairest Faerie Queene doth dwell. 

The fairest citie was that might be scene ; 

And that bright towre all built of christall cleene, . . j. 

Panthea,° seemd the brightest thing that was : -^-d^^^— «^ 

But now by proofe all otherwise I weene ; 520 

For this great Citie that does far surpas, 

And this bright Angels towre quite dims that towre of glas. 

LIX 

Most trew, then said the holy aged man ; 
Yet is Cleopolis, for earthly frame, ° 

The fairest peece that eye beholden can ; 525 

And well beseemes all knights of noble name. 
That covett in th' immortall booke of fame 
To be eternized, that same to haunt. 
And doen their service to that soveraigne dame. 
That glorie does to them for guerdon graunt : 530 

For she is heavenly borne, and heaven may justly vaunt. 



190 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LX 

And thou faire ymp, sproiig out from English race, 
How ever now accompted Elfins sonne, 
Well worthy doest thy service for her grace, 
To aide a virgin desolate fordonne. 635 

But when thou famous victory hast wonne, 
And higli emongst all knights hast hong thy shield, 
Thenceforth the suit of earthly conquest shonne, 
And wash thy hands from guilt of bloudy field : 

For blood can nought hut sin, and wars but sorrowcs yield. 540 

LXI 

Then seek this i)ath, that I to thee presage, 
Which after all to heaven shall thee send ; 
Then peaceably thy i)ainefull pilgrimage 
To yonder same Hicrusalem do bend. 

Where is for thee oi'daind a blessed end : 545 

For thou emongst those Saints, whom thou doest see. 
Shall be a Saint, and thine owne nations frcnd 
And Patrone : thou Saint George shalt called bee, 

Saint Gcorge° of mery England, the signe of vicioree. 

LXII 

Unworthy wretch ((pioth he) of so great grace,° 550 

How dare I thinke such glory to attaine? 
These that have it attaind, were in like cace, 
(Quoth he) as wretched, and liv'd in like paine. 
But deeds of armes must I at last be faine 
And Ladies love to leave so dearely bought? 555 

What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine, 
(Said he,) and battailes none are to be fought? 

As for loose loves, they're vain, and vanish into nought. 



CANTO X 191 



LXIII 



O let me not (quoth he) then turne againe 

Backe to the world, whose joyes so fruitlesse are ; 560 

But let me here for aye in peace remaine, 

Or streight way on that last long voyage fare, 

That nothing may my present hope empare. 

That may not be, (said he) ne maist thou yit 

Forgo that royall mjtides bequeathed care,° . 565 

Who did her cause into thy hand commit, 

Till from her cursed foe thou have her freely quit. 

LXIV 

Then shall I soone (quoth he) so God me grace, 

Abet that virgins cause disconsolate. 

And shortly backe returne unto this place, 570 

To walke this way in Pilgrims poore estate. 

But now aread, old father, why of late 

Didst thou behight me borne of English blood. 

Whom all a Faeries sonne doen nominate 1 

That word shall I (said he) avouchen good, 575 

Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy blood. 



For well I wote thou springst from ancient race 
Of Saxon kings, that have with mightie hand 
And many bloody battailes° fought in place 
High reard their royall throne in Britane land, 580 

And vanquisht them, unable to withstand : 
From thence a Faerie thee unweeting reft, 
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band. 
And her base Elfin brood there for thee left. 584 

Such men do Chaungelings° caU, so chang'd by Faeries theft. 



192 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LXVI 

Thence she thee brought into this Faerie lond, 
And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde, 
Where thee a Ploughman all unweeting fond, 
As he his toylesome teme that way did guyde, 
And brought thee up in ploughmans state to byde, 590 
Whereof Georgos° he gave thee to name ; 
Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde, 
To Faerie court thou cam'st to seeke for fame, 

And prove thy puissaunt armes, as seemes thee best became. 

LXVII 

holy Sire (quoth he) how shall I quight 595 

The many favours I with thee have found, 

That hast my name and nation red aright. 

And taught the way that does to heaven bound ? 

This said, adowne he looked to the ground, 

To have returnd, but dazed were his eyne 600 

Through passing brightnesse, which did quite confound 

His feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne. 
So darke are earthly things compard to things divine. 



At last whenas hiniselfe he gan to find, 

To Una back he cast him to retire ; 605 

Who him awaited still with pensive mind. 

Great thankes and goodly meed to that good syre 

He thence departing gave for his paines hyre. 

So came to Una, who him joyd to see, 

And after little rest, gan him desire 610 

Of her adventure mindfull for to bee. 
So leave they take of Coelia, and her daughters three. 



CANTO XI 193 



CANTO XI 

The knight with that old Dragon fights 

txoo dayes incessantly ; 
The third him overthrowes, and gayns 

most glorious victory. 

I 

High time now gan it wex for Una faire 

To thinke of those her captive Parents deare, 
And their forwasted kingdome to repaire : 
Whereto whenas they now approched neare, 
With hartie wordes her knight she gan to cheare, 
And in her modest manner thns bespake ; 
Deare knight, as deare as ever knight was deare, 
That all these sorrowes suffer for my sake, 

High heaven behold the tedious toyle ye for me take. 



Now are we come unto my native soyle, 10 

And to the place where all our perils dwell ; 

Here haunts that feend, and does his dayly spoyle ; 

Therefore henceforth be at your keeping well,° 

And ever ready for your foeman fell. 

The sparke of noble courage now awake, 15 

And strive your excellent selfe to excell : 

That shall ye evei-more renowmed make, 
Above all knights on earth that batteill undertake. 



194 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



III 

And pointing forth, Lo yonder is (said she)° 

The brasen towre in which my parents deare 20 

For dread of that huge feend eraprisond be, 

Whom I from far, see on the walles appeare, 

Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare : 

And on the top of all I do espye 

The watchman wayting tydings glad to heare, 25 

That my parents might I happily 

Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery. 



With that they heard a roaring hideous sound. 

That all the ayre with terrour filled wide, 

And seemd uneath° to shake the stedfast ground. 30 

Eftsoones that dreadful Dragon° they espide. 

Where stretch t he lay upon the sunny side,° 

Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill.) 

But all so soone as he from far descride 

Those glistring armes, that heaven with light did fill, ."'5 
He rousd himselfe full blith, and hastned them untill. 



Then bad the knight his Lady yede aloofe, 

And to an hill her selfe withdraw aside : 

From whence she might behold that battailles proof, 

And eke be safe from daunger far descryde : 40 

She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde. 

Now thou sacred muse,° most learned Dame, 

Faire ympe of Phoebus and his aged bride. 

The Nourse of time and everlasting fame, 
That warlike hands ennoblest with immortall name ; 45 



CANTO XI 195 



VI 

gently come into my feeble brest, 

Come gently, but not with that mighty rage, 

Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest, 

And harts of great Heroes doest enrage, 

That nought their kindled courage may aswage, 50 

Soone as thy dread full trompe begins to sownd. 

The God of warre with his fiers equipage 

Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd, 

All scared nations doest with horrour sterne astownd. 



VII 

Faire Goddesse, lay that furious fit aside, 55 

Till I of warres° and bloody Mars do sing. 
And BritonTields with Sarazin bloud bedyde, 
Twixt that great Faery Queene, and Paynim king. 
That with their horrour heaven and earth did ring ; 
A worke of labour long and endlesse prayse : 60 

But now a while let downe that haughtie string^ 
And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse. 

That I this man of God his godly amies may blaze. 

VIII 

By this the dreadfull Beast drew nigh to hand, 

Halfe flying, and halfe footing in his haste, 65 

That with his largenesse measured nuich land, 

And made wide shadow under his huge wast. 

As mountaine doth the valley overcast. 

Approching nigh, he reared high afore 

His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste, 70 

Which to increase his wondrous greatnesse more, 

Was swoln with wrath, and poyson, and with bloudy gore. 



196 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

IX 

And over, all with brasen scales was armd, 
Like plated coate of Steele, so couched iieare, 
That nought mote perce, ne might his corse be harmd 75 
With dint of sword, nor push of pointed speare ; 
Which, as an Eagle, seeing pray appeare, 
His aery plumes doth rouze, full rudely dight; 
So shaked he, that horrour was to heare, 
For as the clashing of an Armour bright, 80 

Such noyse his rouzed scales did send unto the knight. 



His flaggy wings when forth he did display, 

Were like two sayles, in w^hich the hollow wynd 

Is gathered full, and worketh speedy way : 

And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd, 85 

Were like mayne-yards, with flying canvas lynd ; 

With which whenas him list the ayre to beat, 

And there by force unwonted passage find, 

The cloudes before him fled for terrour great, 

And all the heavens stood still amazed with his threat. 90 



XI 

His huge long tayle wound up in hundred foldes, 
Does overspred his long bras-scaly backe. 
Whose wreathed boughts when ever he unfoldes, 
And thicke entangled knots adown does slacke, 
Bespotted as with shields of red and blacke, 95 

It sweepeth all the land behind him farre, 
And of three furlongs does but litle lacke ; 
And at the point two stings in-fixed arre. 

Both deadly sharpe, that sharpest Steele exceeden farre. 



CANTO XI 197 



XII 



But stings and sliarpest Steele did far exceed lOO 

The sharpnesse of his criiell rending clawes ; 
Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed, 
What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes, 
Or what within his reach he ever drawes. 
But his most hideous head my toung to tell 105 

Does tremble : for his deepe devouring jawes 
Wide gaped, like the griesly mouth of hell. 

Through which into his darke abisse all ravin fell. 



XIII 

And that more wondrous was, in either jaw 

Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were, 110 

In which yet trickling blood, and gobbets raw 

Of late devoured bodies did appeare. 

That sight thereof bred cold congealed feare : 

Which to increase, and as atonce to kill, 

A cloud of smoothering smoke and sulphure seare, 115 

Out of his stinking gorge forth steemed still. 

That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did filL 

XIV 

His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shields, 
Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre : 
As two broad Beacons, ° set in open fields, 120 

Send forth their flames far off" to every shyre, 
And warning give, that enemies conspyre 
With fire and sword the region to invade ; 
So flam'd his eyne with rage and rancorous yre : 
But farre within, as in a hollow glade, 125 

Those glaring lampes were set, that made a dreadfull shade. 



198 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XV 

So dreadfully he towards him did pas, 

Foreliftiiig up aloft his speckled brest, 

And often bounding on the brused gras, 

As for great joyance of his newconie guest. 130 

Eftsoones he gan advance his haughtie crest, 

As chauffed Bore his bristles doth upreaie, 

And shoke his scales to battell ready drest ; 

That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare, 
As bidding bold defiance to his foeman neare. 135 

XVI 

The knight gan fairely couch his steadie speare. 
And fiercely ran at him with rigorous might : 
The pointed Steele arriving rudely theare, 
His liarder hide would neither perce, nor bight. 
But glauncing by forth passed forward right ; 140 

Yet sore amoved with so puissaunt push, 
The wrathfull beast about him turned light, 
And him so rudely passing by, did brush 

With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rush. 

XVII 

Both horse and man up lightly rose againe, 145 

And fresh encounter towards him addrest : 
But th'idle stroke yet backe recoyld in vaine, 
And found no place his deadly point to rest. 
Exceeding rage enflam'd the furious beast. 
To be avenged of so great despight ; 150 

For never felt his imperceable brest 
So wondrous force, from hand of living wight ; 

Yet had he prov'd the powre of many a puissant knight. 



CANTO XI 199 



XVIII 



Then Avith his waving wings displayed wyde, 

Himselfe up high he hfted from the ground, 155 

And with strong flight did forcibly divide 

The yielding aire, which nigh too feeble found 

Her flitting parts,° and element unsound. 

To beare so great a weight : he cutting way 

With his broad sayles, about him soared round : ]r>o 

At last low stouping° with unweldie sway, 

Snatcht up both horse and man, to beare them quite away. 

XIX 

Long he them bore above the subject plaine, 

So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may send, 

Till struggling strong did him at last constraine 1G5 

To let them downe before his flightes end : 

As hagard hauke,° presuming to contend 

With hardie fowle, above his hable might,° 

His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend 

To trusse the pray too heavy for his flight ; 170 

Which comming downe to ground, does free it selfe by fight. 



XX 

He so disseized^ of his gryping grosse. 

The knight his thrillant speare again assayd 

In his bras-plated body to embosse. 

And three mens strength unto the stroke he layd ; 175 

Wherewith the stifle beame quaked, as aftrayd, 

And glauncing from his scaly necke, did glyde 

Close under his left wing, then broad displayd : 

The percing Steele there wrought a wound full wyde, 

That with the uncouth smart the Monster lowdly cryde. ISO 



200 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXI 



He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore, 

When wintry storme his wrathful! wreck does threat 

The roaring billowes beat the ragged shore, 

As they the earth would shoulder from her seat, 

And greedy gulfe does gape,° as he would eat 185 

His neighbour element in his revenge : 

Then gin the blustring brethren" boldly threat 

To move the world from off his steadfast henge. 

And boystrous battell make, each other to avenge. 

XXII 

The steely head stucke flist still in his flesh, 190 

Till with his cruell clawes he snatcht the wood, 
And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh 
A gushing river of blacke goarie blood, 
That drowned all the land, whereon he stood ; 
The streame thereof would drive a water-mill : 195 

Trebly augmented was his furious mood 
With bitter sence of his deepe rooted ill, 

That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethrill. 

XXIIT 

His hideous tayle then hurled he about, 

And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes 200 

Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout 

Striving to loose the knot that fast him tyes, 

Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes, 

That to the ground he is perforce constraynd 

To throw his rider : who can quickly ryse 205 

From off the earth, with durty blood distaynd, 

For that reprochfuU fall right fowly he disdaynd. 



CANTO XI 201 



XXIV 

And fiercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand, 
With which he stroke so furious and so fell, 
That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand : 210 
Upon his crest the hardned yron fell. 
But his more hardned crest was armd so well, 
That deeper dint therein it would not make ; 
Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell. 
That from thenceforth he shund the like to take, 215 

But when he saw them come, he did them still forsake. 

XXV 

The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld. 
And smote againe with more outrageous might ; 
But backe againe the sparckling Steele recoyld. 
And left not any marke, where it did light, 220 

As if in Adamant rocke it had bene pight. 
The beast impatient of his smarting wound. 
And of so fierce and forcible despight. 
Thought with his wings to stye above the ground ; 

But his late wounded wing unserviceable found. 225 

XXVI 

Then full of griefe and anguish vehement. 
He lowdly brayd, that like was never heard. 
And from his wide devouring oven° sent 
A flake of fire, that, flashing in his beard. 
Him all amazd, and almost made affeard : 230 

The scorching flame sore swinged all his face, 
And through his armour all his body seard. 
That he could not endure so cruell cace, 

But thought his amies to leave, and helmet to unlace. 



202 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



Not that great Champioii° of the antique world, 235 

Wliom famous Poetes verse so much doth vaunt, 
And hath for twelve huge labours high extold. 
So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt. 
When him the poysond garment did encliaunt, 
With Centaures bloud and bloudie verses charm'd ; - ' ) 
As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt, 
Whom fyrie Steele now burnt, that earst him arm'd, 

That erst him goodly arm'd, now most of all him harm'd. 

XXVIII 

Faint, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieved, brent° 

With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire, 245 

That never man such mischiefes did torment ; 

Death better were, death did he oft desire. 

But death will never come, when needes require. 

Whom so dismayd wlien that his foe beheld, 

He cast to suffer him no more respire, 250 

But gan liis sturdy sterne about to weld. 

And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld. 

XXIX 

It fortuned, (as faire it then befell,) 

Behind his backe unweeting, where he stood, 

Of auncient time there was a springing well, 255 

From which fast trickled forth a silver flood, 

Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good. 

Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got 

That happy land, and all with innocent blood 

Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot 260 

The well of life° ne yet his vertues had forgot. 



CANTO XI 203 



XXX 



For unto life the dead it could restore, 

And guilt of sinfuU crimes cleane wash away, 

Those that with sicknesse were infected sore 

It could recure, and aged long decay 265 

Renew, as one were borne that very day. 

Both Silo° this, and Jordan did excell. 

And th' English Bath, ° and eke the German Spau ; 

Ne can Cephise,° nor Hebrus match this well: 

Into the same the knight back overthrowen, fell. 270 

XXXI 

Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe 
His fierie face in billowes of the west, 
And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe. 
Whiles from their journall labours they did rest, 
When that infernall Monster, having kest 275 

His wearie foe into that living well. 
Can high advance his broad discoloured brest 
Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell, 

And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell. 

XXXII 

Which when his pensive Ladie saw from farre, 280 

Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay. 

As weening that the sad end of the warre. 

And gan to highest God entirely pray, 

That feared chance from her to turne away ; 

With folded hands and knees full lowly bent, 2^'ri 

All night she watch t, ne once adowne would lay 

Her daintie limbs in her sad dreriment. 
But praying still did wake, and waking did Ipir.en^.. 



204 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXIII 

The morrow next gan early to appeare, 

That Titan rose to runne his daily race ; 290 

But early ere the morrow next gan reare 

Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face, 

Up rose tlie gentle virgin from her place, 

And looked all about, if she might spy 

Her loved knight to move° his manly pace : 295 

For she had great doubt of his safety, 
Since late she saw him fall before his enemy. 

XXXIV 

At last she saw, where he upstarted brave 
Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay : 
As Eagle° fresh out of the Ocean wave, 300 

Where he hath left his plumes all hoary gray, 
And deckt himselfe with feathers youthly gay, 
Like Eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies, 
His newly budded pineons to assay. 
And marveiles at himselfe, still as he flies : 305 

So new this new-borne knight to battell new did rise. 

XXXV 

Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy, 

No wonder if he wondred at the sight, 

And doubted, wliether his late enemy 

It were, or other new supplied knight. 310 

He, now to prove his late renewed might. 

High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade, ° 

Upon his crested scalpe so sore did smite. 

That to the scull a yawning wound it made ; 
The deadly dint his dulled senses all dismaid. 315 



CANTO XI 205 



XXXVI 

I wote not, whether the revenging Steele 

Were liardned with that holy water dew, 

Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele, 

Or his baptized hands now greater grew ; 

Or other secret vertiie did ensew ; 320 

Else never could the force of fleshly arme, 

Ne molten mettall in his blood embrew°; 

For till that stownd could never wight him harme, 
By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme. 

XXXVII 

The cruell wound enraged him so sore, 325 

That loud he yelded for exceeding paine ; 
As hundred ramping Lyons seem'd to rore, 
Whom ravenous hunger did thereto constraine : 
Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine, 
And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore, 330 

That to his force to yeelden it was faine ; 
Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore, 

That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore. 

XXXVIII 

The same advauncing high above his head. 

With sliarpe intended sting° so rude him smot, 335 

That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead, 

Ne living wight would have him life behot : 

The mortall sting his angry needle shot 

Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd. 

Where fast it stucke, ne would there out be got : 340 

The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd, 

Ne might his ranckling paine with patience be appeasd. 



206 THE FAERIE QUEENE 

XXXIX 

But yet more mindfull of his honour deare, 

Then of the grievous smart, which him did wring, 

From loathed soile he can him lightly reare, 345 

And strove to loose the far infixed sting : 

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling, 

Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he heft, 

And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string 

Of his huge taile he quite a sunder cleft, 350 

Five joints thereof he hewd, and but the stump him left. 

XL 

Hart cannot thinke, what outrage, and what cryes. 
With foule enfouldred smoake and flashing fire, 
The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skyes, 
That all was covered with darkenesse dire : 355 

Then fraught with rancour, and engorged ire, 
He cast at once him to avenge for all, 
And gathering up himselfe out of the mire. 
With his uneven wings did fiercely fall. 

Upon his sunne-bright shield, and gript it fast withall. 3(i0 



Much was the man encombred with his hold, 

In feare to lose his weapon in his paw, 

Ne wist yet, how his talaunts to unfold ; 

For harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw 

To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw 365 

To reave by strength the griped gage° away : 

Thrise he assayd it from his foot to draw. 

And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay. 
It booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray. 



CANTO XI 20< 



XLII 



Tho when he saw no power might prevaile, 370 

His trustie sword lie cald to his last aid, 

Wherewith he fiercely did his foe assaile, 

And double blowes about him stoutly laid, 

That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid ; 

As sparckles from the Andvile use to fly, 375 

When heavy hammers on the wedge are swaid ; 

Therewith at last he foi'st him to unty 
One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby. 

XLIII 

The other foot, fast fixed on his shield, 

Wlienas no strength, nor stroks mote him constraine 380 

To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield. 

He smot thereat with all his might and maine. 

That nought so wondrous puissaunce might sustaine ; 

Upon the joint the lucky Steele did light, 

And made such w^ay, that hewd it quite in twaine ; 385 

The paw yett missed not his minisht might,° 

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight. 

XLIV 

For griefe tliereof and divelish despight,° 

From his infernall fournaee forth he threw 

Huge flames, that dimmed all the heavens light, 390 

Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew : 

As burning Aetna from his boyling stew 

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke. 

And ragged ribs of mountains molten new, 

Enwrapt in coleblacke clouds and filthy smoke, ;•■'"> 

That all the land with stench, and heaven with horror clio! e 



208 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XLV 

The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence 

So sore him uoyd, that forst him to retire 

A Httle backward for his best defence, 

To save his body from the scorching fire, 400 

Which he from hellish entrailes did expire. 

It chaunst (eternalLGod that chaunce did guide,) 

As he recoiled backward, in the mire 

His nigh for wearied feeble feet did slide. 
And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide. 405 

XLVI 

There grew a goodly tree° him faire beside, 

Loaden with fruit and apples rosie red, 

As they in pure vermilion had beene dide, 

Whereof great vertues over all were red°: 

For happy life to all which thereon fed, 410 

And life eke everlasting did befall : 

Great God it planted in that blessed sted 

With his Almighty hand, and did it call 
The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall.° 

XLVII 

In all the world like was not to be found, 415 

Save in that soile, where all good things did grow, 

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull ground. 

As incorrupted Nature did them sow, 

Till that dread Dragon all did overthrow. 

Another like faire tree eke grew thereby, 420 

Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know 

Both good and ill : O mornefull memory : 
That tree through one mans fault hath doen us all to dy. 



CANTO XI ' 209 



XLVIII 



From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well, 

A trickling streame of Balme, most soveraine 425 

And dainty deare, which on the ground, still fell, 

And overflowed all the fertile plaine, 

As it had deawed bene with timely raine : 

Life and long health that gratious ointment gave, 

And deadly wounds could heale and reare againe 430 

The senselesse corse appointed for the grave. 

Into that same he fell : which did from death him save. 

XLIX 

For nigh thereto the ever damned beast 

Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,° 

And all that life preserved did detest : 435 

Yet he is oft adventur'd to invade. 

By this the drouping day-light gan to fade, 

And yield his roome to sad succeeding night, 

Who with her sable mantle gan to shade 

The face of earth, and wayes of living wight, 440 

And high her burning torch set up in heaven bright. 



When gentle Una saw the second fall 

Of her 'deare knight, who wearie of long fight, 

And faint through losse of blood, mov'd not at all. 

But lay, as in a dreame of deepe deliglit, 445 

Besmeard with pretious Balme, whose vertuous might 

Did heale his wounds, and scorching heat alay, 

Againe she stricken was with sore att'right. 

And for his safetie gan devoutly pray. 

And watch the noyous night, and wait for joyous day. 450 



210 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



LI 

The joyous day gan early to appeare, 

And faire Aurora from the deawy bed 

Of aged Tithone gan herselfe to reare 

With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red ; 

Her golden locks for haste were loosely shed 455 

About her eares, when Una her did marke 

Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred ; 

From heaven high to chase the chearelesse darke, 
With merry note her loud salutes the mounting larke. 

LII 

Then freshly up arose the doughtie knight, 460 

All healed of his hurts and woundes wide, 
And did himselfe to battell ready dight ; 
Whose early foe awaiting him beside 
To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde. 
When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare, 465 

As if late fight had nought him damnify de, 
He woxe dismayd, and gan his fate to feare ; 

Nathlesse with wonted rage he him advaunced neare. 

LIII 

And in his first encounter, gaping wide,° 

He thought attonce him to have swallowd quight, 470 

And rusht upon him with outragious pride ; 

Who him r'encountring fierce, as hauke in flight 

Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon bright 

Taking advantage of his open jaw, 

Ran through his mouth with so importune might, 475 

That deepe emperst his darksome hollow maw. 

And back retyrd,° his life blood forth with all did draw. 



CANTO XI 211 



LIV 



So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath, 
That vaiiisht into smoke and cloiides swift ; 
So downe he fell, that th' earth him underneath 480 

Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift ; 
So downe he fell, as an huge rockie clift, 
Whose false foundation waves have was) it away. 
With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift, 
And rolling downe, great Neptune doth dismay ; 485 

So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay. 

LV 

The knight himselfe even trembled at his fall, 

So huge and horrible a masse it seem'd ; 

And his deare Ladie, that beheld it all, 

Durst not approch for dread, which she misdeem'd° ; 4i)0 

But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend 

She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright, 

She nigher drew, and saw that joyous end : 

Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfull knight. 
That had atchieved so great a conquest by his might. 495 



212 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



CANTO XII 



Faire Una to the Redcrosse knight, 

betrouthed is with joy: 
Though false Duessa it to harre 

her false sleights doe iiiiploy. 



Behold I see the haven nigh at hand, 

To which I meane my wearie course to bend ; 

Vere the maine shete,° and beare up with the land, 

The which afore is fairely to be kend. 

And seemeth safe from storms that may offend ; 5 

There this faire virgin wearie of her way 

Must landed be, now at her journey es end : 

There eke my feeble barke a while may stay 
Till merry wind and weather call her thence away. 

II 

Scarsely had Phoebus in the glooming East 10 

Yet harnessed his firie-footed teeme, 
Ne reard above the earth his flaming creast ; 
When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme 
That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme 
Unto the watchman on the castle wall, 15 

Who thereby dead that balefuU Beast did deeme, 
And to his Lord and Ladie lowd gan call. 

To tell how he had seene the Dragons fatall fall. 



CANTO XII 213 



III 

Uprose with hastie joy, and feeble speed 

That aged Sire, the Lord of all that land, 20 

And looked forth, to weet if true indeede 

Those tydings were, as he did understand, 

Wliich whenas ti'ue by tryall he out found. 

He bad to open wyde his brazen gate. 

Which long time had bene shut, and out of hond° 25 

Proclaymed joy and peace through all his state ; 

For dead now was their foe which them forrayed late. 

IV 

Then gau triumphant Trompets sound on hie, 

That sent to heaven the ecchoed report 

Of their new joy, and happie victorie 30 

Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort. 

And fast imprisoned in sieged fort. 

Then all the people, as hi solemne feast. 

To him assembled with one full consort, 

Rejoycing at the fall of that great beast, 35 

From whose eternall bondage now they were releast. 



Forth came that auncient Lord and aged Queene, 
Arayd in antique robes downe to the ground. 
And sad habiliments right well beseene ; 
A noble crew about them w^aited round 40 

Of sage and sober Peres, all gravely gownd ; 
Whom farre before did march a goodly band 
Of tall young men,° all hable armes to sownd, 
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand ; 

Glad signe of victorie and peace in all their land, 45 



214 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



VI 



Unto that doughtie Conquerour they came, 
And him before themselves prostrating low, 
Their Lord and Patrone loud did him proclame, 
And at his feet their laurell boughes did throw. 
Soone after them all dauncing on a row 50 

The comely virgins came, with girlands dight, 
As fresh as flowres in medow greene do grow, 
When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light : 

And in their hands sweet Timbrels all upheld on hight. 

VII 

And them before, the fry of children young 55 

Their wanton sports and childish mirth did play, 
And to the Maydens° sounding tymbrels sung. 
In well attuned notes, a joyous lay, 
And made delightfull musicke all the way, 
Untill they came, where that faire virgin stood ; 60 

As faire Diana in fresh sommers day, 
Beholds her Nymphes enraung'd in shadie wood, 

Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood : 

VIII 

So she beheld those maydens merimcnt 

With chearefull vew ; who when to her they came, 65 

Themselves to ground with gracious humblesse bent, 

And her ador'd by honorable name. 

Lifting to heaven her everlasting fame : 

Then on her head they set a girland greene. 

And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game ; 70 

Who in her self-resemblance well beseene,° 

Did seeme such, as she was, a goodly maiden Queene. 



CANTO XII 215 

IX 

And after, all the raskall many° ran, 

Heaped together in rude rablement, 

To see the face of that victorious man : 75 

Whom all admired, as from heaven sent, 

And gazd upon with gaping wonderment. 

But when they came where that dead Dragon lay, 

Streteht on the ground in monstrous large extent, 

Tiie sight with idle feare did them dismay, 80 

Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay. 



Some feard, and fled ; some feard and well it faynd ; 
One that would wiser seeme then all the rest, 
Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd 
Some lingring life within his hollow brest, 85 

Or in his wombe might liirke some hidden nest 
Of many Dragonets, his fruitfull seed ; 
Another said, that in his eyes did rest 
Yet sparckling fire, and bad thereof take heed ; 

Another said, he saw him move his eyes indeed. 90 

XI 

One mother, when as her foolehardie chyld 

Did come too neare, and with his talants play, 

Halfe dead through feare, her little babe revyld, 

And to her gossips gan in counsell say ; 

How can I tell, but that his talants may 95 

Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand ? 

So diversly themselves in vaine they fray ; 

Whiles some more bold, to measure him nigh stand, 

To prove how many acres he did spread of land. 



216 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XII 



Thus flocked call the folke him round about, 100 

The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine, 
Being arrived where that champion stout 
After his foes defeasance did remaine, 
Him goodly greetes, and faire does entertaine 
With princely gifts of yvorie and gold, 105 

And thousand thankes him yeelds for all his paine. 
Then when his daughter deare he does behold, 

Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold. 

XIII 

And after to his Pallace he them brings, 

With shaumes, and trompets, and with Clarions sweet ; llO 

And all the way the joyous people sings, 

And with their garments stroAves the paved street : 

Whence mounting up, they find purveyance meet 

Of all that royall Princes court became. 

And all the floore was underneath their feet 115 

Bespred with costly scarlot of great name,° 

On which they lowly sit, and fitting purpose frame. ° 

XIV 

What needs me tell their feast and goodly guize,° 

In which was nothing riotous nor vaine? 

What needs of dainty dishes to devize, 120 

Of comely services, or courtly trayne 1 

My narrow leaves cannot in thehi containe 

The large discourse of royall Princes state. 

Yet was their manner then but bare and plaine : 

For th' antique world excesse and pride did hate ; 125 

Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen up but late. 



CANTO XII 217 



XV 

Then when with meates and drinkes of every kinde 
Their fervent appetites they quenched had, 
That auncient Lord gan fit occasion finde, 
Of straunge adventures, and of perils sad, 130 

Which in his travell him befallen had. 
For to demaund of his renowmed guest : 
Who tlien with utt'rance grave, and count'nance sad, 
From point to point, as is before exprest, 

Discourst his voyage long, according his request. 135 

XVI 

Great pleasures mixt with pittiful regard. 
That go'dly King and Queene did passionate, 
Whiles they his pittifull adventures heard. 
That oft they did lament his lucklesse state, 
And often blame the too importune fate, 140 

That heaped on him so many wrathfuU wreakes : 
For never gentle knight, as he of late, 
So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes ; 

And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers cheaks. 



XVII 

Then sayd the royall Pere in sober wise ; 145 

Deare Sonne, great beene the evils which ye bore 
From first to last in your late enterprise. 
That I note whether prayse, or pitty more : 
For never living man, I weene, so sore 
In sea of deadly daungers was distrest ; 150 

But since now safe ye seised have the shore, 
And well arrived are, (high God be blest) 

Let? us devize of ease and everlasting rest. 



218 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XVIII 



Ah, dearest Lord, said then that doughty knight. 

Of ease or rest I may not yet devize, 155 

For by the faith, which I to amies have plight, 

I bounden am streight after this emprize. 

As that your daughter can ye well advize, 

Backe to returne to that great Faerie Queene, 

And her to serve six yeares in warlike wize, 100 

Gainst that proud Paynim king° that workes her teene 

Therefore I ought crave pardon, till I there have beene. 

XIX 

Unhappie falles that hard necessitie, 

(Quoth he) the troubler of my happie peace, 

And vowed foe of my felicitie ; 165 

Ne I against the same can justly preace : 

But since that band ye cannot now release, 

Nor doen undo°; (for vovves may not be value,) 

Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall cease. 

Ye then shall hither backe returne againe, 170 

The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twain. 

XX 

Which for my part I covet to performe. 

In sort as° through the world I did proclame, 

That whoso kild that monster most deforme, 

And him in hardy battaile overcame, 175 

Should have mine onely daughter to his Dame, 

And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee : 

Therefore since now to thee perteines the same, 

By dew desert of noble chevalree, 

Both daughter and eke kingdome, lo, I yield to thee. 180 



CANTO XII 219 



XXI 



Then forth he called that his daughter faire, 
The fairest Un' his onely daughter deare, 
His onely daughter, and his onely heyre ; 
Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare, 
As bright as doth the morning starre appeare 185 

Out of the East, with flaming lockes bedight, 
To tell that dawning day is drawing neare, 
And to the world does bring long wished light : 

So faire and fresh that Lady shewd her selfe in sight. 

XXII 

So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May ; 190 

For she had layd her mournefull stole aside, 
And widow-like sad wimple throwne away. 
Wherewith her heavenly beautie she did hide, 
Whiles on her wearie journey she did ride ; 
And on her now a garment she did weare, 195 

All lilly white, withoutten spot, or pride, 
That seenid like silke and silver woven neare, 

But neither silke nor silver therein did appeare. 

XXIII 

The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame. 

And glorious light of her sunshyny face, 200 

To tell, were as to strive against the streame ; 

My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace, 

Her heavenly lineaments for to enchace. 

Ne wonder ; for her owne deare loved knight. 

All were she° dayly with himselfe in place, 205 

Did wonder much at her celestiall sight : 

Oft had he seene her faire, but never so faire dight. 



220 THE FAERIE QUEEN E 



XXIV 

So fairely dight, when she in presence came, 
She to her Sire made humble reverence, 
And bowed low, that her right well became, 210 

And added grace imto her excellence : 
Who with great wisedome and grave eloquence 
Thus gan to say. But eare he thus had said, 
With flying speede, and seeming great pretence 
Came running in, much like a man dismaid, 215 

A Messenger with letters, which his message said. 

XXV 

All in the open hall amazed stood 

At suddeinnesse of that unwarie sight, 

And wondred at his breathlesse hastie mood. 

But he for nought would stay his passage right, 220 

Till fast before the king he did alight ; 

Where falling flat, great humblesse he did make. 

And kist the ground, whereon his foot was pight ; 

Then to his hands that writ he did betake, 
Which he disclosing, red thus, as the paper spake. 225 

XXVI 

To thee, most mighty king of Eden faire. 

Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest, 

The wofull daughter, and forsaken heire 

Of that great Emperour of all the West ; 

And bids thee be advized for the best, 230 

Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band 

Of wedlocke to that new unknowen guest : 

For he already plighted his right hand 
Unto another love, and to another land. 



CANTO XII 221 



XXVII 



To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad, 235 

He was affiaunced long time before, 
And sacred pledges he both gave, and had, 
False erramit knight, infamous, and forswore : 
Witnesse the burning Altars, which he swore. 
And guiltie heavens of his bold perjury, ■ 240 

Which though he hath polluted oft of yore. 
Yet I to them for judgement just do fly, 

And them conjure t'avenge this shamefull injury. 

XXVIII 

Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond, 

Or false or trew, or living or else dead, 245 

Withhold, soveraine Prince, your hasty bond 

From knitting league with him, I you aread ; 

Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread, 

Through weaknesse of my widowhed, or woe ; 

For truth is strong her rightfull cause to plead, 250 

And shall find friends, if need requireth soe. 

So bids thee well to fare. Thy neither friend, nor foe, 

Fidessa. 

XXIX 

WHien he these bitter byting wordes had red. 
The tydings straunge did him abashed make. 
That still he sate long time astonished, 255 

As in great muse, ne word to creature spake. 
At last his solemne silence thus he brake. 
With douhtfull eyes fust fixed on his guest ; 
Redoubted knight, that for mine onely sake 
Thy life and honour late adventurest, 260 

Let nought be hid from me, that ought to be exprest. 



222 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXX 



What meane these bloody vowes, and idle threats, 
Throwne out from womanish impatient mind 1 
What heavens 1 Avhat altars 1 what enraged heates 
Here heaped up with termes of love unkind, 265 

My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bind? 
High God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse ame. 
But if yourselfe, Sir knight, ye faultie find, 
Or wrapped be in loves of former Dame, 

With crime do not it cover, but disclose the same. 270 

XXXI 

To whom the Redcrosse knight this answere sent ; 
My Lord, my King, be nought hereat dismayd. 
Till well ye wote by grave intendiment. 
What woman, and wherefere doth me upbrayd 
With breach of love, and loyalty betrayd. 275 

It was in my mishaps, as hitherward 
I lately traveild, that unwares I strayd 
Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard ; 

That day should fade me, ere I had them all declard. 

XXXII 

There did I find, or rather I was found 280 

Of this false w^oman, that Fidessa hight, 

Fidessa hight the falsest Dame on ground, 

Most false Duessa, royall richly dight. 

That easy was to invegle weaker sight : 

Who by her wicked arts, and wylie skill, 285 

Too false and strong for earthly skill or might, 

Unwares me wrought unto her wicked will. 
And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared ill. 



CANTO XII 22^ 



XXXIII 

Then stepped forth the goodly royall Mayd, 

And on the ground her selfe prostrating low, 290 

With sober countenaunce thus to him sayd ; 

O pardon me, my soveraigne Lord, to show 

The secret treasons, which of late I know 

To have bene wroght by that false sorceresse. 

She onely she it is, that earst did throw 295 

This gentle knight into so great distresse. 
That death him did awaite in dayly wretchednesse. 

XXXIV 

And now it seemes, that she suborned hath 

This craftie messenger with letters vaine. 

To worke new woe and unprovided scath, 300 

By breaking of the band betwixt us twaine ; 

Wherein she used hath the practicke paine 

Of this false footman, clokt with simplenesse, 

Whom if ye please for to discover plaine. 

Ye shall him Archimago find, I ghesse, 305 

The falsest man alive ; who tries shall find no lesse. 

XXXV 

The king was greatly moved at her speach. 
And, all with suddein indignation fraight, 
Bad on that Messenger rude hands to reach. 
Eftsoones the Gard, which on liis state did wait, 310 
Attacht that faitor false, and bound him strait : 
Who seeming sorely chauffed at his band, 
As chained Beare, whom cruell dogs do bait,° 
With idle force did faine them to withstand, 

And often semblaunce made to scape out of their hand. 315 



224 THE FAERIE QUEENE 



XXXVI 

But they him layd full low in dungeon deepe, 
And bound him hand and foote with yron chains 
And with continual watch did warely keepe : 
Who then would thinke, that by his subtile trains 
He could escape fowle death or deadly paines 1 320 

Thus when that princes wrath was pacifide, 
He gan renew the late forbidden bains, 
And to the knight his daughter dear he tyde, 

With sacred rites and vowes for ever to abyde. 

XXXVII 

His owne two hands the holy knots did knit, 325 

That none but death for ever can devide ; 

His owne two hands, for such a turne most fit, 

The housling fire° did kindle and provide. 

And holy water thereon sprinckled wide ; 

At which the bushy Teade a groome did light, 330 

And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide, 

Where it should not be quenched day nor night, 
For feare of evill fates, but burnen ever bright. 

XXXVIII 

Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine. 

And made great feast to solemnize that day ; 335 

They all perfumde with frankencense divine. 

And precious odours fetcht from far away, 

That all the house did sweat with great arayr 

And all the while sweete Musicke did apply 

Her curious skill, the warbling notes to play, 340 

To drive away the dull Melancholy ; 

The whiles one sung a song of love and jollity.. 



CANTO XII 22b 

XXXIX 

During the which there was an heavenly noise 

Heard sound through all the Pallace pleasantly, 

Like as it had bene many an Angels voice 345 

Singing before th' eternall Majesty, 

In their trinall triplicities° on hye ; 

Yet wist no creature whence that heavenly sweet 

Proceeded, yet eachone felt secretly 

Himselfe thereby reft of his sences meet, 350 

And ravished with rare impression hi his sprite. 

XL 

Great joy was made that day of young and old, 
And solemne feast proclaimd throughout the land, 
That their exceeding merth may not be told : 
Suffice it heare by signes to understand 355 

The usuall joyes at knitting of loves band. 
Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold, 
Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand. 
And evei', when his eye did her behold. 

His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold. 360 

XLI 

Her joyous presence, and sweet company 
In full content he there did long enjoy ; 
Ne wicked envie, ne vile gealosy, 
His deare delights were able to annoy : 
Yet swimming in that sea of blissfull joy, 365 

He nought forgot how he whilome had sw^orne, 
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy, 
Unto his Faerie Queene backe to returne ; 

The which he shortly did, and Una left to mourne. 

Q ' 



226 THE FAERIE QUE EN E 



XLII 

Now strike your sailes ye jolly Mariners, 370 

For we be come unto a quiet rode, 
Where we must land some of our passengers, 
And light this wearie vessell of her lode. 
Here she a while may make her safe abode, 
Till she repaired have her tackles spent," 375 

And wants supplide. And then againe abroad 
On the long voyage whereto she is bent : 

Well may she speed e and fairely finisli her intent. 



NOTES 



Line i. Lo I the man. . . . An imitation of the opening lines of 

Vergil's Aeneid : — 

" Ille ego, qui quondam gracili modulatus avena 
Carmen, . . . 
Gratum opus agricolis, at nunc liorrentia Martis." 

Referring to his ShephearcV s Calender (1579) Spenser thus grace- 
fully indicates his change from pastoral to epic poetry. 

5-9. Knights and Ladies. The poet here imitates the opening 
of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso. 

10. holy virgin chief e of nine, refers to Clio, the muse of 
history. Spenser should have invoked Calliope, the muse of epic 
poetry. 

14. Of Faerie knights, the champions of Gloriana, the queen 
of Faerieland. fairest Tanaquill, a British princess, daughter of 
Oberon, king of Faerieland. In the allegory she is Queen Eliza- 
beth. 

15. that most noble Briton Prince is Prince Arthur, the perfect 
knight, who is in love with Gloriana. In the allegory the Earl of 
Leicester is probably meant, though by one tradition Sir Philip 
Sidney is identified with Prince Arthur. 

ig. impe of highest Jove, Cupid, the god of love, and son of 
Jupiter and Venus. He is represented as armed with an ebony bow 
(1. 23). 

25. triumphant Mart, Mars, the god of war. The spelling is 
tliat of tlie Italians and Chaucer. 

I 227 



228 • CANTO I [Page 12 

28. Goddesse heavenly bright, Queen Elizabeth (aged 56), 
who was fond of such extravagant flattery, and expected it of all 
her courtiers. 

31. Phoebus lampe, Apollo, the sun-god. 

34. glorious type of thine, the Lady Una, who stands for 
Truth in the allegory. 

35. The argument of mine afQicted stile, the subject of my 
humble pen. '-'Afflicted'''' has the original Latin sense of "cast 
down." 

36. dearest dred, beloved object of reverence ; a common 
salutation of royalty. 

CANTO I 

1. The Plot: At the bidding of Gloriana, the Redcross Knight 
undertakes to deliver Una's parents from a dragon who holds them 
captive. He sets out upon his quest attended by a dwarf and 
guided by Una, mounted on an ass and leading a lamb. They are 
driven by a storm into a forest, where they discover the cave of 
Error, who is slain by the Knight, They are then beguiled into 
the house of Archimago, an old enchanter. By his magic he leads 
the Knight in a dream to believe that Una is false to him, and thus 
separates them. 

II. The Allegory: 1. Holiness, the love of God, united with 
Truth, the knowledge of God, is to deliver man from the thraldom 
of the Devil. Together they are able to overthrow Error ; but 
Hypocrisy deceitfully alienates Holiness from Truth by making the 
latter appear unworthy of love. 

2. There is a hint of the intrigues of the false Roman church 
and the treacherous Spanish king, Philip II, to undermine the 
religious and political freedom of the English people. The English 
nation, following the Reformed church, overthrows the Catholic 
faith, but is deceived by the machinations of Spanish diplomacy . 



Pages 13-15] NOTES 229 

Line i. A gentle Knight, the Kedcross Knight, representing the 
church militant, and Reformed Enghmd. He is the young, untried 
cliampion of the old cause whose struggles before the lieformation 
are referred to in 11. 3, 4. His shield bore "a cross gules upon a 
field argent," a red cross on a silver ground. See The Birth of St. 
Geonje in Percy's Beliques^ iii, 3, and Malory's Morte d'' Arthur, 
iii, 65. 

15. For soveraine hope, as a sign of the supreme hope. 

20. greatest Gloriana, Queen Elizabeth. In other books of 
The Faerie Queene she is called Belphoebe, the patroness of chas- 
tity, and Britomart, the military genius of Britain. 

27. A Dragon, "the great dragon, that old serpent, called the 
devil," Bevelation, xii, 9, also Rome and Spain. Cf. legend of 
St. George and the dragon, and Fletcher's Piirple Island, vii seq. 

28. a lovely Ladle, Una, the personification of truth and true 
religion. Her lamb symbolizes innocence. 

46. a Dwarfe, representing prudence, or common sense ; ac- 
cording to Morley, the flesh. 

56. A shadie grove, the wood of Error. "By it Spenser 
shadows forth the danger surrounding the mind that escapes from 
the bondage of Roman authority and thinks for itself." — Kitchin. 
The description of the wood is an imitation of Ariosto's Orlando 
Furioso, i, 37, Chaucer's Assembly of Foules, 176, and Tasso's 
Jerusalem Delivered, iii, 75. Morley sees in this grove an allegory 
of man's life, the trees symbolizing trade, pleasure, youth, etc. 

69. The sayling Pine. Ships were built of pine. 

70. the Poplar never dry, because it grows best in moist 
soil. 

71. The builder Oake. In the Middle Ages most manor houses 
and churches were built of oak. 

72. the Cypresse funerall, an emblem of death among the an- 
cients, and sacred to Pluto. Sidney says that they were wont to 
dress graves with cypress branches in old times. 



230 CANTO I [Pages 16-18 

73. The Laurell. Victors at the Pythian games and triumph- 
ing Roman generals were crowned with laurel. It was also sacred 
to Apollo, the god of poetry, hence " meed of poets sage." 

74. the Firre that weepeth still. The fir exudes resinous sub- 
stance. 

75. The Willow. " Willows : a sad tree, whereof such who have 
lost their love make their mourning garlands." — Fuller's Worthies^ 
i, 153. Cf. Hey wood's Song of the Green Willow, and Desdemona's 
song in Othello, IV, iii, 39. 

•76. The Eugh. Ascham in his roa;opM«s tells us that the best 
bows were made of yew. 

78. The Mirrhe, the Arabian myrtle, which exudes a bitter but 
fragrant gum. The allusion is to the wounding of Myrrha by her 
father and her metamorphosis into this tree. 

79. The warlike Beech, because lances and other arms were made 
of it. the Ash for nothing ill. "The uses of the ash is one 
of the most universal : it serves the souldier, the carpenter, the 
wheelwright, cartwright, cooper, turner, and thatcher." — Evelyn's 
Sylva. The great tree Igdrasil in the northern mythology was an 
ash. 

81. The carver Holme, or evergreen oak, was good for carving. 

106. shame were to revoke, etc., it would be cowardly not to go 
forward for fear of some suspected unseen danger. 

114. the wandring wood, i.e. which causes men to go astray. 

123. monster. The description of the monster Error, or False- 
hood, is based on Hesiod's Echidna, Theog. 301, and the locusts in 
Revelation, ix, 7-10. She is half human, half serpent, because error 
is partly true and partly false. Dante's Fraud and Milton's Sin 
are similar monsters. 

126. full of vile disdaine, full of vileness that bred disgust in 
the beholder. 

130. Of her there bred, etc., of her were born a thousand young 
ones. Her offspring are lies and rumors of many shapes. 



Pages 18-21] NOTES 231 

141. Armed to point, completely armed. Cf. Fr. a point, to 
a nicety. 

145. the valiant Elfe, because he was the reputed son of an 
Elfin or Faerie, though really sprung from "an ancient race of 
Saxon kings." Three kinds of elves are mentioned in the Edda : 
the black dwarfs, and brownies, who both dwelt under ground, and 
the fair elves, who dwelt in Fairyland or Alfheim. "The difference 
between Spenser's elves and these Teutonic elves shows how he 
perverts Fairy mythology in the same way as he does Classical 
myths.' ' — Percival. 

168. His gall did grate for grief e, his anger was aroused on ac- 
count of pain.* In the old anatomy anger had its seat in the gall- 
bladder. See Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy^ I, i, 2. 

177. Her vomit full of bookes, etc. From 1570, when Pope 
Sixtus V issued his bull of deposition against Queen Elizabeth, to 
1590, great numbers of scurrilous pamphlets attacking the Queen 
and the Reformed church had been disseminated by Jesuit refugees. 

181. Nilus. Pliny believed that the mud of the Nile had the 
power of breeding living creatures like mice. Hist. Nat. ix, 84. 
So Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra., II, vii, 29. 

igg. gentle Shepheard. In this pastoral simile, Spenser im- 
itates Homer's Iliad^ ii, 469, and xvii, 641, and Ariosto's Orlando 
Furioso, xiv, 109. 

208. Thus ill bestedd. There is a similar combat in the old 
romance Guy of Warwick, ix, between the hero and a man-eating 
dragon. 

217. Her scattred brood. The poet here follows a belief as old as 
Pliny that the young of serpents fed on their mother's blood. In 
this entire passage the details are too revolting for modern taste. 

232. the which them nurst. The antecedent of which is Aen 
In the sixteenth century the was frequently placed before which, 
which was also the equivalent of loho. Cf. the Lord's Prayer. 

234. he should contend, he should have had to contend. 



232 CANTO I [Pages 22-25 

237. borne under happy starre. Belief in astrology was once 
common, and Spenser being a Pythagorean would hold the doctrine 
of the influence of the stars on human destiny. 

239. that Armorie, the armor of the Christian warrior. JEphe- 
sians, vi, lo. 

243. that like succeed it may, that like successful adventures may 
succeed it. The word order is inverted for the sake of the rhyme. 

250. to frend, as his friend. 

254. An aged Sire, the false enchanter, Archimago, or Hy- 
pocrisy, who is supposed to represent Pope Sixtus V or King Philip 
II of Spain. In general he stands for false religion or the Church 
of Rome. The character and adventure are taken* from Orlando 
Furioso, ii, •12, in which there is a hypocritical hermit. The Knight 
at first takes Archimago to be a palmer, and inquires for the foreign 
news. 

295. take up your In, take lodging. 

301. a little wyde, a Httle way off. 

315. an Ave-Mary, Hail Mary, a prayer to the Virgin. Cf. 
Luke., i, 28. 

317. the sad humour, the heavy moisture, or "slombring 
deaw." 

318. Morpheus, the son of Somnus and god of sleep and dreams, 
who sprinkled the dew of sleep on the brow of mortals from his 
horn or wings or from a bough dipped in Lethe. 

323. His Magick bookes and artes. Monks engaged in scientific 
investigation, such as Friar Roger Bacon, were popularly supposed 
to use cabalistic books, and to make compacts with the Devil by 
means of necromancy, or the black art, as in st. xxxvii. Before 
the close of the century Marlowe's Doctor Faustus and Greene's 
Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, both based on the popular belief 
in magic, were presented on the London stage. 

328. blacke Plutoes griesly Dame, Proserpine, the avenger of 
men, and inflicter of curses on the dead. She is identified with 



Pages 25-26] NOTES 233 

Shakespeare's Hecate, the goddess of sorcery, and with Milton's 
Cotytto, goddess of hist. To this latter sin the knight is teni^Dted. 

332. Great Gorgon, Deniogorgon, whose name might not be ut- 
tered, a magician who had power over the spirits of the lower world. 
The poet is here imitating the Latin poets Lucan and Statins. 

333. Cocytus, the river of wailing, and Styx, the river of hate, 
both in Hades. There were two others, Acheron^ the river of sor- 
row, and Phlegethon, the river of fire. 

335- Legions of Sprights. In this stanza and the preceding 
Spenser follows Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered, xiii, 6-11, where the 
magician Ismeno, guarding the Enchanted Wood, conjures "■ legions 
of devils" with the "mighty name" (1. 332). 

339. chose. Imitation of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, ii, 15, in 
which a false spirit is called up by a hypocritical hermit. The de- 
scription of the House of Sleep in st. xxxix seq. is modelled on the 
same poet, Orlando Furioso, ii, 15 seq. The influence of Homer's 
Odyssey, xi, 16 is seen in st. xxxix, 11. 348 seq. 

348. Tethys, the ocean. In classical mythology she is the 
daughter of Uranus (heaven) and Gaea (earth), and the wife of 
Oceanus. 

349. Cynthia, the moon. The allusion is to the story of Diana 
and Endymion. See Lyly's play Endymion. 

352. Whose double gates. Homer, Odyssey, xix, 562, and Vergil, 
Aeneid, vi, 893, give the House of Dreams a horn and an ivory gate. 
Spenser substitutes silver for horn, mirrors being overlaid with 
silver in his time. From the ivory gate issued false dreams ; from 
the other, true ones. 

361. slumber soft. This stanza shows Spenser's wonderful tech- 
nique. His exquisite effects are produced, it will be noticed, partly 
by the choice of musical words and partly by the rhythmical cadence 
of the verse phrases. It is an example of perfect "keeping," or 
adaptation of sound to sense. Cf. Chaucer's description of the 
waterfalls in the Cave of Sleep in his Bake of the Buchesse, 162. 



234 CANTO I [Pages 27-31 

376. whose dryer braine, whose brain too dry. In the old 
physiology, a dry brain was the cause of slow and weak perception, 
and a moist brain of quickness. 

378. all, entirely, altogether. 

381. Hecate, queen of phantoms and demons in Hades, and 
mistress of witches on earth. See xxxvii. 

387. the sleepers sent, the sleeper's sense. 

405. most like to seeme, etc., most likely fit to seem for (rep- 
resent) Una. Like is an adv. A very awkward inversion. 

411. borne without her dew, i.e. created by him in an unnat- 
ural manner. 

425. Fayre Venus, the daughter of Jupiter, or Zeus, and the 
sea-nymph Dione. She is the same as Aphrodite, the Greek god- 
dess of love and beauty. 

430, the Graces, Euphrosyne, Aglaia, and Thalia, daughters of 
Zeus and Aphrodite. 

431, Hymen lb Hymen, refrain of an old Roman nuptial song. 
Hymen, the son of Apollo and the Muse Urania, was the god of 
marriage. 

432, freshest Flora, the goddess of flowers. She typified spring. 
447. To prove his sense, etc. To test his perception and prove 

her feigned truth. 

449. Tho can she weepe, then did she weep. Can here is the 
Northern dialect form for the middle English gan, past tense of 
ginnen., to begin, which was used as an auxiliary. 

454. the blind God, Cupid, Eros, or Amor, the god of love. 

478. Like other knights of romance, e.g. Sir Galahad and Sir 
Gareth in Malory's Morte cVArthnr, iii, 65, etc., the Redcross 
Knight does not yield to the temptation of the flesh, but over- 
comes it. 



Page 32] NOTES 235 

Questions and Topics for Study 

(Canto I) 

1. Tell in your own words the story of this canto. 2. Which 
muse does Spenser invoke? 3. Who were the nine muses? 4. 
What is the difference between pastoral and epic poetry ? 5. Illus- 
trate by The Shepheards Calender and the The Faerie Queene. 
6. Point out imitations of Homer, Vergil, Lucan, Statius, Ariosto, 
Tasso, and Chaucer, 7. Explain the reference to the religious 
questions and politics of Queen Elizabeth's reign. 8. Where docs 
Spenser use classical mythology — mediceval legends ? 9. Wliat 
references to the Bible do you find ? 10. Try to make a mental 
picture of the Knight — of Una — of Error — of Archimago. 11. Is 
Spenser's character drawing objective or subjective ? 12. Is the 
description of the wood in vii true to nature ? Could so many trees 
grow together in a thick wood ? 18. Study the Rembrandt-like 
effects of light and shade in xiv. 14. What infernal deities are 
conjured up by Archimago ? 

15. Paraphrase in your own language 11. 88, 106-107, 116, 
267-268. 

16. Explain use of of in 1. 75. 17. What part of speech is 
imndering 1. 114? to viewen 1. 201? parse lohichl. 232; him and 
spend 1. 233 ; you and shew 1. 276. 18. Find examples of Euphu- 
istic hyperbole in iv, of alliteration in xiv. 19. Explain the use 
and form of eyne, edified, afflicted, iveeds, Hehean, impe, compeld, 
areeds, blazon, ycladd. 

CANTO II 

I. Tlie Plot : Deceived by Archimago's phantoms, the Redcross 
Knight suspects the chastity of Una, and flies at early dawn with 
his dwarf. He chances to meet the Saracen Sansfoy in company 
with the false Duessa. They do battle and Sansfoy is slain. 
Duessa under the name of Fidessa attaches herself to the Kniirht, 



236 CANTO II [Pages 32-34 

and they ride forward. They stop to rest under some shady trees. 
On breaking a bough, the Kniglit discovers that the trees are two 
lovers, Fradubio and Fraelissa, thus imprisoned by the cruel en- 
chantment of Duessa. 

II. The Allegory : 1. Hypocrisy under a pious disguise is attractive 
to Holiness. Truth is also deceived by it, and shamefully slandered. 
Holiness having abandoned Truth, takes up with Falsehood, who is 
attended by Infidelity. Unbelief when openly assailing Holiness is 
overthrown, but Falsehood under the guise of Faith remains undis- 
covered. The fate of the man (Fradubio) is set forth who halts 
between two opinions, — False Religion (Duessa) and Heathen 
Philosophy, or Natural Religion (Fraelissa). 

2. The Reformed Church, no longer under the guidance of Truth, 
rushes headlong into Infidelity, and unwittingly became the de- 
fender of the Romish Faith under the name of the True Faith. 
There is a hint of the intrigues of Mary Queen of Scots and the 
libels of the Jesuits on Queen Elizabeth designed to bring back the 
English nation to Romish allegiance. 

Line i. the Northerne wagoner, the constellation Bootes. 

2. his sevenfold teme, the seven stars of Ursa Major, or Charles's 
Wain, the stedfast starre, the Pole-star, which never sets. 

6. chearefull Chaunticlere, the name of the cock in the fabliaux 
and beast epics, e.g. Boman de Benart and Beineke Fuchs. 

7- Phoebus fiery carre, the sun. 

II. that faire-forged Spright, fair but miscreated spirit (I, xiv). 
Spenser took suggestions for this stanza from Ariosto and Tasso. 

51. faire Hesperus, the evening star. 

55. the rosy-fingred Morning. This beautiful epithet of Aurora, 
the goddess of the dawn, is borrowed from Homer, Hesiod, and 
other ancient poets. 

56. aged Tithones, son of Laomedon, King of Troy. Aurora 
conferred upon him immortality without youth, hence the epithet 
"aged." 



Pages 34-38] NOTES 237 

58. Titan, the sun-god in the Roman myths. 

85. Proteus, a sea-god who was endowed with the power of 
prophecy. He could change liimself into any shape in order to 
avoid having to prophesy. See Homer, Odyssey, iy, 306 seq., and 
Vergil, Georgics, iv, 387. 

90. herbes. In the sixteenth century the belief in potions, magic 
formulas, etc., was still strongly rooted in the popular mind. The 
Spanish court and the priests were supposed to employ super- 
natural agencies against the Protestants. 

105. A faithless Sarazin. Spenser uses the word Saracen in 
the general sense of pagan. During the Middle Ages the Saracen 
power was a menace to Europe, and the stronghold of infidelity. 
The names of the three Paynim brethren, Sansfoy, Sansjoy, and 
Sansloy, — faithless, joyless, and lawless. — suggest the point of 
view of Spenser's age. 

109. a faire companion, the enchantress Duessa, or Falsehood, 
who calls herself Fidessa. In the allegory Spenser intended her to 
represent the Romish church and Mary Queen of Scots. Her char- 
acter and appearance were suggested by the woman of Babylon, 
in Bevelation, viii, 4, Ariosto's Alcina, and Tasso's Armida. 

136. As when two rams. This figure is found in Vergil, Apol- 
lonius, Malory, Tasso, Dante, and other poets and romancers. 

141. the hanging victory, the victory which hung doubtful in 
the balance. 

144. The broken reliques, the shattered lances. 

148. Each others equall puissaunce envies, each envies the equal 
prowess of the other. 

149. through their iron sides, etc., through their armored sides 
with cruel glances, etc. 

155. the bitter fit, the bitterness of death. 

158. assured sitt, etc., sit firm (in the saddle), and hide (cover) 
thy head (with thy shield). 

160. With rigour so outrageous, with force so violent. 



238 CANTO II [Pages 38-42 

i6i. That a large share, etc., that a large piece it (the sword) 
hewed, etc. 

162. from blame him fairly blest. 1, fairly preserved him from 
hurt ; 2, fairly acquitted him of blame. Him in (1) refers to the 
knight, in (2) to the Saracen. (1) is the better interpretation. 

169. grudging. Because reluctant to part from the flesh. 

196. daughter of an Emperour. Duessa represents the Pope, 
who exercised imperial authority in Rome, though the seat of the 
empire had been transferred to Constantinople in 476. 

200. the only haire. The dauphin of France, the first husband 
of Mary Queen of Scots, afterwards King Francis II, son of Henry 
II. Duessa's story is full of falsehoods. 

244. so dainty they say maketh derth, coyness makes desire. 
The knight is allured on by Duessa's assumed shyness. 

251. ne wont there sound, nor was accustomed to sound 
there. 

254. cool shade. The Reformed Church, weakened by False- 
hood, is enticed by doubt and skepticism. 

262. faire seemly pleasaunce, pleasant courtesies. 

263. With goodly purposes, with polite conversation. This 
whole stanza refers to Mary's candidacy for the English throne 
and its dangers to Protestantism. 

269. He pluckt a bough. In this incident Spenser imitates 
Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, vi, 26, in which Ruggiero addresses 
a myrtle which bleeds and cries out with pain. The conception 
of men turned into trees occurs also in Ovid, Vergil, Tasso, and 
Dante. 

272. spare with guilty hands, etc. Cf. Vergil's account of 
Polydorus in Aeneid, iii, 41, in which a myrtle exclaims, Farce pias 
scelerare manus, etc. 

284. from Limbo lake, here, the abode of the lost. With the 
Schoolmen, Limbo was a border region of hell where dwelt the 
souls of Old Testament saints, pious heathen, lunatics, and un- 



Pages 43-47] NOTES 2o9 

baptized infants. Cf. Milton's Paradise of Fools, Paradise Lost, 
iii, 495. 

291. Fradubio, as it were " Brother Doubtful," one who 
hesitates between false religion and pagan religion, Duessa and 
Fraelissa (Morley). Fraelissa is fair but frail, and will not do to 
lean upon. 

342. faire in place, fair in that place. 

351. to treen mould, to the form of a tree. Treen is an adj. 
like wooden. 

354. the same. Supply "as she appeared to be," i.e. fair and true. 

357- proper hew. AVitches had to appear in their "proper 
hew" one day in spring and undergo a purifying bath. The old 
romances make frequent mention of the enchanted herb bath, 

370. by chaunges of my cheare, by my changed countenance 
or expression. 

371. drownd in sleepie night. The phrase modifies " body," 
or is equivalent to " while I was drowned in sleep." 

382. in a living well, in a well of running water. This well 
signifies the heeling power of Christianity. John, iv, 14. In 
Spenser's story this well is never found, and the wretched couple 
are never restored to human shape. 

404. all pasfied feare, all fear having passed. 

Questions and Topics 

(Canto II) 

1. How do3S the knight feel and act while under Archimago's 
spell ? 2. Wliat becomes of Una ? 3. How does Archimago plan 
to deceive he.; ? 4. Tell the story of the lovers turned into trees. 
5. Who was Sansfoy ? 6. Describe the appearance and character 
of Duessa. 7. What did she have to do with Fradubio and Frae- 
lissa ? 8. What was the old belief about the penance of witches ? 
9. How only could the lovers be restored to their human shape ? 



240 CANTO III [Page 48 

Was it done ? 10. Who were St. George, Phoebus, Titan, Titho- 
nius ? 11. Explain the reference to Chaunticlere in 1. 6. 

12. Find examples of alliteration in xix ; of balance in xxxvii ; 
and of Latinizing in xix ; xxxvi ; xxxviii, and xl, 

13. Paraphrase in your own words 11. Ill, 134-135, 162 (giving 
two interpretations) ; 335, 380-387. 

14. What figure of speech is used in xiii, xvi, and xx ? 

15. Study the rich word-painting in the description of sun- 
rise in vii. Find other examples of this poet's use of "costly" 
epithets. 

16. Scan the following passages : 148, 174, 178, 193, and 299. 

17. Find example of tmesis (separation of prep, from ob.) in 
xlv. 

18. What is the difference between the two wells in xliii ? 

19. To whom do the pronouns in 11. 174, 175 refer ? 

20. What is the case of heavens in 1. 193? of Sarazin in 1. 217 ? 

21. What words are omitted in 11. 188, 313, 398 ? 

CANTO III 

I. Tlie Plot : Una wandering in quest of her Knight is guarded 
by a Lion. With difficulty they gain entrance to the cottage of 
Corceca and her daughter Abessa, the paramour of Kirkrapine. 
The latter is killed by the Lion. Fleeing the next day, Una falls 
in with Archimago disguised as the Redcross Knight. They journey 
on and meet a second Saracen knight, Sansloy. In the light which 
ensues Archimago is unhorsed and his deception unmasked. The 
Lion is slain, and Una becomes the captive of Sanslo}'. 

II. The Allegory: 1. Truth finds temporary protection in 
Reason, or Natural Honor (Lion), and with its help puts a stop to the 
Robbing of Churches (Kirkrapine), which is connived at by Blind 
Devotion (Corceca) and Secret Sin (Abessa). Truth is then asso- 
ciated with Hypocrisy under the guise of Holiness, but it is soon 



Pacjics 48-52] NOTES 241 

unmasked by Lawlessness (Sansloy), with which Truth is forced 
into an unnatural alliance. 

2. "The lion is said to represent Henry VIII, overthrowing the 
monasteries, destroying church-robbers, disturbing the dark haunts 
of idleness, ignorance and superstition." — Kitchin. The battle 
between Archimago and Sansloy refers to the contests of the 
Catholic powers with the Moslems. The whole canto also has a 
hint of the violence and lawlessness connected with the English 
conquest of Ireland. 

Line 14. though true as touch, though true as if tested on the 
touchstone (by which true gold was distinguished from counterfeit). 

18, And her due loves, etc., the love due to her diverted, 
etc. 

27. Yet wished tydings, etc., yet none brought unto her the 
wished-for tidings of him. An awkward transposition. 

34. the great eye of heaven, the sun. Cf. Paradise Lost, 
V. 171. 

38. A ramping Lyon. Reason or Natural Honor ; also Henry 
VIII. According to the ancient belief, no lion would attack a 
true virgin or one of royal blood. Similar scenes are found in 
Sir Bevis of Hampton, The Seven Champions of Christendom, etc. 
Cf. I Henry IV, ii, 4. The allegory signifies that man guided 
merely by reason will recognize Truth and pay it homage. 

51. Whose yeelded pride, etc., object of had marked, 1. 52. 

77. he kept both watch and ward, he kept awake and guarded 
her. 

89. A damzell spyde, Abessa, who symbolizes Flagrant or 
Secret Sin. 

99. her cast in deadly hew, threw her into a deathly paleness. 

loi. upon the wager lay, was at stake. 

102. whereas her mother blynd, where her blind mother, Cor- 
ceca, or Blind Devotion. 

109. unruly Page. This refers to the violence with which Henry 
R ' 



242 CANTO III [Pages 53-58 

VIII forced Protestantism upon the people. In his Present State 
of Ireland (p. 045) , Spenser speaks of the ignorance and blind de- 
votion of the Irish Papists in the benighted country places. 

ii6. Pater nosters, the Lord's Prayer; Aves, prayers to the 
Virgin. 

136. Aldeboran, the Bull's Eye, a double star of the first magni- 
tude in the constellation Taurus. 

137. Cassiopeias chaire, a circumpolar constellation having a 
fancied resemblance to a chair. 

139. One knocked at the dore, Kirkrapine, the plunderer of the 
Church. Spenser represents in him the peculiar vices of the Irish 
clergy and laity. 

166. stay him to advize, stop to reflect, 

172. him booteth not resist, it does him no good to resist. 
This whole passage refers, perhaps, to Henry VIIPs suppression of 
the monasteries and convents in 1538-39. 

185. that long wandring Greeke. Ulysses, or Odysseus, the 
hero of Homer's Odyssey, who wandered ten years and refused 
immortality from the goddess Calypso in order that he might return 
to Penelope. 

xxii. Note the rhymes deare, heare, and teare (air). This 16th 
century pronunciation still survives in South Carolina. See Ellis's 
Uarly English Pronunciation, III, 868. This stanza reads like the 
description of an Irish wake. 

238. Or ought have done, or have done something to displease 
you. 

239. That should as death, etc., that should settle like death, etc. 
248. And chose in Faery court. See Spenser's letter to Sir 

W. Raleigh, p. 6. 

250. her kindly skill, her natural power. 

276. fierce Or ions hound, Sirius, the Dog-star, the brightest of 
the fixed stars. The constellation Orion was named from a giant 
hunter who was beloved by Aurora and slain by Diana. 



Pages 58-02] NOTES 243 

279. And Nereus crownes with cups, and Nereus drinks bum- 
pers in his honor. Nereus was a sea-god, son of Ocean and 
Earth. 

282.^ from ground, from the land. 

297. Sans loy symbolizes the pagan lawlessness in Ireland. 
There is also a wider reference to the struggles between the Turks 
and the allied Christian powers, which had been going on since the 
siege of Vienna in -1529. 

309. vainly crossed shield, Archimago's false cross lacked the 
protecting power of St. George's charmed true cross. 

321. Lethe lake, a lake or river of Hades, whose water brought 
oblivion or forgetfulness to all who drank of it. 

322. Refers to the ancient custom of sacrificing an eneipy on the 
funeral altar to appease the shade of the dead. 

323. The blacke infernall Furies, the Erinyes, or goddesses of 
vengeance, who dwelt in Erebus. They were robed in black, bloody 
garments befitting their gloomy character. 

325. In romance it was customary for the victor to unlace the 
helmet of the knight whom he had unhorsed before slaying 
him. Friends and relatives were sometimes discovered by this 
precaution. 

342. Ne ever wont in field, etc., was never accustomed to fight 
in the battle-field or in the lists of the tournament. 

xliii. Contrast Sansloy's rude treatment of Una with the chival- 
rous respect and courtesy always shown by a true knight to woman. 

Questions and Topics 

(Cauto III) 

1. What moral reflections does the poet make in the introduc- 
tory stanza ? Note the reference to the Queen. 2. What do you 
learn of the laws, customs, and sentiments of chivalry in this 
canto ? 3. Give an account of Una's ineetins; with the Lion. 



244 CANTO IV [Page 63 

4. Explain the allegory of the incident of the Lion. 5. Describe 
the character, appearance, and actions of Corceca, and explain the 
allegory. 6. Note the use of the stars to indicate time. 7. Under 
what circumstances does Una meet Archimago ? 8. Explain 
the allegory in ix. 9. Note the Euphuistic balance in xxvii. 

10. What figure do you find in xxxi ? Note the Homeric style. 

11. Describe the fight between Archimago and Sansloy, and 
explain the double allegory. 12. What is the moral interpreta- 
tion of xli-xlii ? 

13. Explain the Latinisms in 11. 37 and 377. 14. How are the 
adjectives used in 1. 57 ? 15. Note change of pronouns in vii 
from third person to first. 16. Explain tense of shold pas in 1. 83. 
17. Note,confusion of pronouns in xxii and xxxv. 18. Examine 
the nominative absolute, construction in st. xiv and xxxix. 
19. Explain the ambiguous construction in 1. 165. 20. Parse her 
in 1. 262. 21, Note careless use of relative in 1. 288. 

CANTO IV 

I. The Plot : In this and the following canto the adventures of 
the Redcross Knight are continued from Canto II. Guided by 
Duessa, he enters the House of Pride. There he sees Lucifera, the 
Queen of Pride, attended by her sinful court. Her six Counselors 
are described in detail, with an account of a pleasure trip taken 
by the Queen and her court. Sansjoy unexpectedly arrives and 
challenges the Knight to mortal combat for the shield of Sansfoy. 
That night Duessa holds a secret conference with the Saracen 
knight. 

II. The Allegory : 1. The Christian Soldier, under the influence 
of false ideals (Duessa), is exposed to the temptations of the 
Seven Deadly Sins, chief among which is Pride. In the midst of 
these sinful pleasures, he is assailed by Joylessness, on whose side 
is Falsehood secretly. 



Pages 64-70] NOTES 245 

2. The religious and political allegory is here vague and some- 
what discontinuous. There is a hint, however, of the attempts of 
Mary Queen of Scots to bring England back to Romanism. The 
pride and corruption of the false church and its clergy are set 
forth. There is also a suggestion of the perilous position of the 
English in Ireland. 

20. of each degree and place, of every rank and order of 
society. 

21, having scaped hard, having escaped with difficulty. 

24. lazars. Leprosy was a common disease in England even as 
late as the sixteenth century. 

49. Malvenu, ill-come, as opposed to Bienvenu, welcome. 

73. like Phoebus fairest childe, Phaethon, the son of Helios. 
He was killed by a thunderbolt from the hand of Zeus, as a result 
of his reckless driving of the chariot of the sun. 

86. A dreadfull Dragon, Fallen Pride. 

94. This genealogy of Pride is invented by the poet in accord 
with the Christian doctrine concerning this sin. 

107. six wizards old, the remaining six of the Seven Deadly 
Sins, Wrath, Envy, Lechery, Gluttony, Avarice, and Idleness. See 
Chaucer's Parson's Tale for a sermon on these mortal sins, Gower's 
Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins, and Langland's Piers Plowman. 

145. coche. Spenser imitates Ovid and Homer in this descrip- 
tion of Juno's chariot. The peacock was sacred to the goddess, 
who transferred to its tail the hundred eyes of the monster 
Argus. See Ovid's Metamorphoses, i, 625 seq. 

157. With like conditions, etc. The behests were of a kind 
similar to the nature of the six Sins, 

174. he chalenged essoyne, he claimed exemption. 

185. like a Crane. This refers to Aristotle's story of a man 
who wished that his neck were as long as a crane's, that he might 
the longer enjoy the swallowing of his food. Nic. Ethics^ iii, 13. 

205. a dry dropsie, a dropsy causing thirst. 



246 CANTO IV [Pages 72-80 

236. Upon a Camell, etc. The reference is to a story in 
Herodotus' History (iii, 102 seq.), in which the Indians are 
described as carrying off on camels gold dust hoarded by enor- 
mous ants. 

252. unto him selfe unknowne, i.e. being ignorant of his own 
wretchedness. 

309. Unthrifty scath, wicked damage, or mischief that thrives 
not. 

313. The swelling Splene. The spleen was the seat of'anger. 

314. Saint Fraunces fire, St. Anthony's lire, or erysipelas. Dis- 
eases were named from those who were supposed to be able to 
heal them. 

335- With pleasaunce, etc. Fed with enjoyment of the fields, 
the fresh air of which they went to breathe. 

437. And helplesse hap, etc. It does no good to bemoan un- 
avoidable chance. 

440. pay his dewties last, pay his last duty to the shade of the 
slain man by sacrificing his murderer. 

443. oddes of armes, chances of mishap in arms due to some 
advantage of one's antagonist. 

Questions and Topics 

(Canto IV) 

1. "What are the moral reflections in stanza i ? 2. What sug- 
gestion of the condition of the English roads do you find in st. ii ? 
3. But few returned, 1. 21. What became of the rest? 4. Give 
a description of the House of Pride. Note resemblance to a typical 
Ehzabethan hall. 5. Explain the allegory of the House, noting 
the association of ugliness and beauty. 6. How is expectation 
r aroused in vi ? 7. Describe the dramatic appearance and character 
of Pride. Cf. description of Satan on his throne in Paradise Lost, 
iii. 8. What do you learn in this canto of Elizabethan or chivalric 



Pagk 81] NOTES 247 

manners and customs ? 9. Describe the procession at the court of 
Pride. 10. What satire of the Romish priesthood in xviii-xx ? 
11. Note examples of Spenser's humor in xiv and xvi. 12. Point 
out the classical influence (Dionysus and Silenus) in the descrip- 
tion of Gluttony. 13. Subject of the interview between Duessa 
and Sansjoy. 14. Point out the archaisms in 1. 10 ; alliteration in 
xxxix and 1 ; the Latinisms in xlvi and xlvii. 15. In what case 
is loay in 1. 17 ? 16. Explain the meaning and historical signifi- 
cance of lazar, 1. 24, and diall, 1. 36. 17. Explain the references 
of the pronouns in 1. 55, and 11. 418-419. 18. Note the Euphuistic 
balance and antithesis in xxix and xlv. 19. Explain the sufiBx in 
marchen in 1. 325. 20. Note the double negative in iv. xlix. 
21. Paraphrase in your own words 11. 239, 243, 360, 437. 

CANTO V 

I. The Plot : (a continuation of Canto IV). The Knight fights 
in the lists with Sansjoy and defeats him, but is prevented by 
Duessa's magic from slaying him. Duessa descends to Erebus and 
obtains the aid of Night, who conveys the wounded Saracen in her 
chariot to ^sculapius to be healed of his wounds. The tortures 
of some of the souls in Erebus are described, particularly the cause 
of ^sculapius' punishment. A roll of the prisoners whom the 
dwarf discovers in Pride's dungeon is given. The Knight flees with 
the dwarf from her house. 

II. Tlie Allegory : When the Christian Soldier is attacked by 
Joylessness, he has a far more desperate struggle than that with 
Infidelity, and comes out wounded though victorious. Joylessness 
when crushed by Holiness is restored by Pagan Philosophy. The 
backsliding Christian is warned in time by Prudence of the fear- 
ful consequences of sin, and hastens to turn his back on Pride and 
the other sins. The soul is led to dread Pride, not by Truth, but 
by its sufferings and other inferior motives. 



248 CANTO V [Pages 82-88 

25. their timely voyces, their voices keeping time with their 
harps. 

27. Old loves, famous love-affairs, the subject of the Minne- 
sangers. 

29. In woven maile, in chain armor. 

32. Araby, probably here the Orient in general. 

33. from furthest Ynd, from farthest India. 

39. unto a paled greene, a green inclosure (lists for a tourna- 
ment) surrounded by a palisade. 

44. his. An old method of forming the possessive, based on a 
misapprehension of the original Anglo-Saxon suffix -es, which was 
shortened in middle English to -is, and tinally to s. 

45. Both those, etc. Both Duessa and the shield are to go to 
the victor. 

65. a Gryfon, a fabulous animal, part lion and part eagle. 
Gryfon is subject of encountereth, with Dragon as object. 

89. And sluggish german, etc., and sluggish brother dost relax 
thy strength to send his (Sansfoy's) foe after him, that he may 
overtake him. In 11. 86-88 Sansjoy addresses his brother, in 
11. 89-00 himself. German is any blood relation. 

100. The Knight supposed that Duessa's encouraging words 
were addressed to him. 

114. Spenser here, with fine dramatic effect, imitates Homer, 
who saves Paris and ^neas by a similar device. Iliad, iii, 380, 
and V, o45. 

150. teares. This mention of the man-eating crocodile's tears is 
based on an old Latin proverb. Sir John Mandeville repeats the 
story. 

172. griesly Night. According to mythology (Hesiod's Theog., 
123), one of the first things created, the daughter of Chaos, and 
mother of ^ther (sky) and Hemera (day) ; also of Deceit, Strife, 
Old Age, and Vengeance. See xxii and xxvii. 

202. on groning beare, on a bier with groaning friends around. 



Pages 88-92] NOTES 249 

204. what of gods, etc., what is it to be born of gods, if old 
Aveugle's (the father of the three Saracens) sons are so ill treated. 

219. and good successes, etc., and good results which follow 
their foes. 

221. or breake the chayne, refers to Jove's proposition to fasten 
a golden chain to the earth by which to test his strength. Homer's 
Iliad, viii, 19. Cf. Milton's Paradise Lost, ii, 1051. 

225. bad excheat, bad gain by exchange. Escheat is an old 
legal term, meaning any lands or goods which fall to the lord of 
a fief by forfeiture. Cf. '• rob Peter to pay Paul." 

229. shall with his owne bloud, etc., shall pay the price of the 
blood that he has spilt with his own. 

263. Here Spenser imitates Homer's Odyssey, xvi, 163. 

267. the ghastly Owle. The poet follows the Latin rather than 
the Greek poets, who regard the owl as the bird of wisdom. 

273. of deepe Avernus hole. Avernus in the poets is a cavern 
(in an ancient crater), supposed to be the entrance to the infernal 
regions. Cf. Vergil's ^neid, vi, 237. In Strabo's Geography it 
is a lake in Campania. 

298. Cerberus, the dog which gxiarded the lower regions. This 
stanza is an imitation of Vergil's ^Eneid, vi, 417 seq. In Dante's 
Inferno Vergil appeases him by casting handfuls of earth into his 
maw. 

XXXV. In this stanza we see the influence of Homer and Vergil. 
Ixion, the king of Lapithse, was chained by order of Zeus to a fiery- 
winged wheel for aspiring to the love of the goddess Hera (Juno). 
Sisyphus had to roll a huge stone forever up a hill for betraying 
the designs of the gods. Tantalus, for divulging the secrets of 
Zeus, was condemned to stand tormented by thirst in a lake. 
Tityus, for an assault on Artemis, was i^inioned to the ground with 
two vultures plucking at his vitals. Typhoeus, a hundred-headed 
giant, was slain by Zeus' thunderbolt, and buried under JEtna. 
The gin on which he was tortured was probably the rack of the 



250 CANTO V [Pages 93-97 

Middle Ages. Cf. the bed of Procrustes. Theseus, for attempting 
to carry off Persephone, was fixed to a rock in Tartarus. The 
"fifty sisters" are the fifty Danaides, who, for slaying their hus- 
bands, were condemned to pour water forever into a vessel full of 
holes. 

322. sad Aesculapius, the god of medicine, slain by Zeus for 
arresting death and diseases. 

354. And fates expired, and the threads of life which the fates 
(Parcpe) had severed. 

387. Great paines, and greater praise, etc. His praise, like 
his pain, is to be eternal. 

xlvii. This list of the thralls of Pride is in imitation of a 
similar one in Chaucer's Monk^s Tale, which was based on 
Boccaccio's De Casibns Illustrium Virorum. 

415. proud king of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar. See Daniel, iii 
and iv. 

420. king Croesus, the last king of Lydia, who was overthrown 
by Cyrus in b.c. 546. Herodotus, i, 26. 

422. proud Antiochus, Antiochus Epiphanes, king of Syria, who 
captured Jerusalem twice, and defiled God's altar. He died raving 
mad B.C. 164. Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews, xiii, 5-9. 

424. great Nimrod, " the mighty hunter " (Genesis, x, 8), whose 
game, according to Spenser, was man. Josephus tells us that 
through pride he built the tower of Babel. 

426. old Ninus, the legendary founder of Nineveh, and put to 
death by his wife, Semiramis. 

428. that mighty Monarch, Alexander the Great (b.c. 366-323), 
king of Macedon. While consulting the oracle of Jupiter Ammon 
in the Libyan desert he was saluted by the priests as " Ammons 
Sonne." He died either of poison (Plutarch) or of excessive drink 
(Diodorus). 

437. Great Romulus, legendary founder of Rome (b.c. 753). 
See Livy, i, 16. 



Page 97] NOTES 251 

438, Proud Tarquin, Tarquiiiius Superbus, the last king of 
Rome. He was banished b.c. 510. 

438. too lordly Lentulus, surnamed Sura, member of a haughty 
patrician family, who conspired with Catiline, and was strangled 
B.C. 02. 

439. Stout Scipio, Cornelius Scipio Africanus (b.c. 237 ?-183 ?), 
the conqueror of Hannibal, and self-exiled from Rome. Livy 
speaks of his inordinate pride, xxxviii, 50. 

439. stubborne Hanniball (b.c. 247-183), the great Carthaginian 
general, who died by poison to avoid falling into the hands of the 
Romans. 

440. Ambitious Sylla (b.c 138-78), Cornelius Sulla, the Dictator, 
who died a loathsome death. 

440. sterna Marius (b.c. 157-86), after being seven times consul, 
he was obliged to take refuge from his rival Sulla amid the ruins of 
Carthage. 

441. High Caesar, Caius Julius Cffisar (b.c. 100-44), who was 
murdered by Brutus and other conspirators. 

441. great Pompey. Cn. Pompeius Magnus (b.c. 106-48). 
After his defeat at Pharsalia, he fled to Egypt, where he was 
murdered. 

441. fierce Antonius, Marcus (b.c. 83-30), the great triumvir, 
who after his defeat at Actium killed himself in Egypt. 

444. The bold Semiramis, the legendary queen of Assyria. 

446. Faire Sthenoboea, the wife of Proteus, who on account of 
her unrequited love for Bellerophon, died by hemlock. Aristoph- 
anes' Frogs, 1040 seq. 

448. High minded Cleopatra (b.c. 69-30), the beautiful queen 
of Egypt, who is said by Plutarch to have died in the manner men- 
tioned. 



252 CANTO V [Pages 81-98 

Questions and Topics 
(Canto V) 

1. How did Redcross spend the night before the fight with Sans- 
joy? 

2. Study in detail the fine description of Duessa's descent to 
Erebus. 

3. What elements of beauty are seen in the description of dawn 
and sunrise in ii ? and compare Psalms, xix, 5. 4. What arbitrary- 
classification of musicians does Spenser make in iii ? 5. Who is 
the far renoiomed Queene in v ? 6. Describe the joust between 
the Knight and Sansjoy. 7. Where do you learn of the laws 
governing such contests ? 8. Observe the dramatic way in which 
Duessa saves Sansjoy. 9. What drauiatic stroke in xxvii ? 10. 
Describe Night and her team. 1 1 . Give an account of her descent 
to Erebus with Sansjoy. 12. What were some of the tortures of 
the damned ? 13. What effect is produced in xxx and how ? 
14. Point out some instances in which Spenser has imitated Homer 
— Vergil. 

15. Where does he follow the Latin rather than the Greek poets ? 

10. Why did ^^sculapius hesitate to heal Sansjoy ? 17, Whom 
did the dwarf see in the dungeons of Pride ? 18. AVhy did the 
Knight flee from the House of Pride ? 

19. Examine the following grammatical forms : maken, 1. 22 ; 
woundes, 1. 400. 20. What figure of speech is employed in xviii ? 
21. What illustration is used in viii ? 22. Find example of 
balanced structure in vii ; alliteration in viii, xv, xviii. 23. Scan 
1. 23. 24. Note nom. abs. construction in xlv. 

25. Paraphrase the involved constructions in xlii, xix, viii, 
xxxvi. 



Pages 99-101] NOTES 253 



CANTO VI 

1. Tlie Plot: (Continuation of Canto III). Una is delivered 
from Sansloy by a band of Satyrs. Slie remains with them as 
their teacher. There a kuiglit of the wild-wood, Sir Satyrane, 
discovers her, and by his assistance, Una succeeds in making her 
way out of the forest to the plain. On the way they meet Archi- 
mago, disguised as a pilgrim, and he deceives them and leads them 
to Sansloy. While Sir Satyrane and Sansloy are engaged in a 
bloody battle, Una flees. She is pursued by Archimago but makes 
her escape. 

II. The Allegory : 1. Truth is saved from destruction by Law- 
less Violence (Sansloy) by the aid of Barbarism or Savage Instinct, 
which terrorizes Lawlessness but offers natural homage to Truth. 
Truth finds a temporary home among Ignorant and Rude Folk 
(Satyrs) and in return imparts divine truth to their unregenerate 
minds. Natural Heroism or Manly Courage (Sir Satyrane) sides 
with Truth and defends it against Lawlessness. 

2. The religious allegory signifies the extension of Protestantism 
through the outlying rural districts of England and in Ireland. 
Upton thinks that Sir Satyrane represents " Sir John Perrot, whose 
behaviour, though honest, was too coarse and rude for a court. 
'Twas well known that he was a son of Henry VIII." Holinshed 
says that as Lord President of Munster, Sir John secured such 
peace and security that a man might travel in Ireland with a white 
stick only in his hand. 

1 6. from one to other Ynd, from the East to the West Indies. 

6i. A troupe of Faunes and Satyres. The Fauns were the 
wood-gods of the Romans, the Satyrs the wood-gods of the Greeks. 
They were half human, half goat, and represented the luxuriant 
powers of nature. 

63. old Sylvanus, the Roman god of fields and woods, young and 



254 CANTO VI [Pages 102-105 

fond of animal pleasures. Spenser represents him as a feeble but 
sensuous old man. 

90. With chaunge of feare, from the wolf to the lion. 

96. rustick horror, bristling hair. 

99. Their backward bent knees, like the hinder legs of a 
goat. 

loi. their barbarous truth, their savage honor. 

103. Late learnd, having been recently taught. She had shown 
too "hasty trust" in Archimago. 

112. without suspect of crime, without suspicion of blame. 

117. The olive is the emblem of peace, as the ivy (1. 126) is of 
sensuousness. 

120. with their horned feet, with their hoofs. 

128. Or Bacchus merry fruit, etc., whether they did discover 
grapes. 

129. Or Cybeles franticke rites, the wild dances of the Cory- 
bantes, priestesses of Cybele, or Rhea, the wife of Chronos and 
mother of the gods. 

132. that mirrhour rare, that model of beauty. So Sidney was 
called " the mirror of chivalry." 

134. faire Dryope, a princess of ^chalia, who became a forest 
nymph. Pholoe, mentioned in 1. 135, is probably a fictitious crea- 
tion of the author's. 

146. dearest Cyparisse, a youth of Cea, who accidentally killed 
his favorite stag and dying of grief was changed into a cypress. 
He was beloved by Apollo and Sylvanus. 

148. not faire to this, i.e. compared to this. 

152. n'ould after joy, would not afterwards be cheerful. 

153. selfe-wild annoy, self-willed distress. 

154. faire Hamadryades, the nymphs who dwelt in the forest 
trees and died with them. 

156. light-foot Naiades, the fresh water nymphs, companions of 
the fauns and satyrs. 



Pages 10o-11;3] NOTES 255 

i6i. their woody kind, the wood-born creatures of their own 
kind. p.(i. nymphs or satyrs, 

163. Una was "luckelesse'' in having lost her knights, but 
'•lucky"' in the friendship of the Satyrs. Note the Euphuistic 
phrasing. 

169. Idolatryes. The allegory has reference to the idolatrous 
practices of the ignorant primitive Christians, such as the worship 
of images of the Saints, the pageant of the wooden ass during Lent 
(see JIatthew. xxi, and BTa.nd^s Popular Antiquities, i. 124). and 
the Feast of the Ass (see Mattkeic, ii. 14). 

172. a noble warlike knight, Sir Satyrane. in whom are united 
rude untaught chivalry and woodland savagery. He represents 
natural heroism and instinctive love of truth. 

173. by just occasion, just at the right moment. 

184. Thyamis is the symbol of Animal Passion ; Labryde of 
the lower appetites : Therion. the human wild beast, who deserts 
his wife, 

xxiv. This account of Sir Satyrane' s education is based on that 
of Rogero by his uncle Atlante in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso. vii, 
5. 7, 

213, maister of his guise, his instructor. 

214. at his horrid vew. his shaggy, uncouth appearance. 

256, his famous worth was blown, i.e. blazoned by Fame's 
trumpet, 

308. a Jacobs staffe. According to Xares, "A pilgrim's staff; 
either from the frequent pilgrimages to St. James of Comfortella 
(in Galicia). or because the apostle St. James is usually repre- 
sented with one."' 

371. See Canto III, xxxviii. where Archimago was disguised 
as St. George, 

372, Th' enchaunter vaine. etc., the foolish enchanter (Archi- 
mago) would not have rued his (St. George's) crime (i.e. slaying 
Sausfoy). 



256 CANTO VI [Pages 113-115 

373. But thou his errour shalt, etc., thou shalt by thy death pay 
the penalty of his crime and thus prove that he was really guilty. 
A very obscure passage. Look up the original meaning of shall. 

386. This simile is found frequently in the old romances. Cf. 
Malory's 3Iorte (P Arthur^ ii, 104, and Chaucer's KnighVs Tale, 
1. 1160. 

416. According to a usage of chivalry, the lover v^ore a glove, 
sleeve, kerchief, or other token of his lady-love on his helmet. By 
" lover's token " Sansloy ironically means a blow. 

425. to her last decay, to her utter ruin, 

426. Spenser leaves the fight between Sansloy and Sir Satyrane 
unfinished. Both warriors appear in later books of the Faerie 
Queene. 

Questions and Topics 

(Canto VI) 

1. Who rescued Una from Sansloy ? 2. How does Una repay 
their kindness ? 3, How was she treated by them ? 4. Explain 
the references to the various classes of nymphs. 5. Look up the 
classical references in xvi and xviii. 6. Why is Una described as 
" luckelesse lucky " ? 7. What customs of the early Christians are 
referred to in xix ? 8. What does Sir Satyrane symbolize in the 
allegory ? 9. What was his character and education ? 10. Note 
the Elizabethan conception of the goddess Fortune in xxxi. 11. Did 
Una act ungratefully in leaving the Satyrs as she did ? 12. Who 
is the weary wight in xxxiv ? 13. What news of St. George did 
he give ? Was it true ? 14. Who is the Paynim mentioned in xl ? 
15. Note Euphuistic antithesis in xlii. 16. Explain the figures in 
iv, vi, X, xliv. 17. Paraphrase 11. 289, 296, 18. Find Latinisms in 
XXV ; xxvi ; xxviii ; xxxi ; and xxxvii. 19. Describe the fight at 
the end of the Canto. 



Pages 116-117] NOTES 257 



CANTO VII 

1. The Plot: (Continuation of Canto V). Duessa pursues the 
Eedcross Knight, and overtakes liim sitting by an enchanted foun- 
tain, weary and disarmed. He is beguiled into drinking from the 
fountain, and is quickly deprived of strength. In this unnerved and 
unarmed condition he is suddenly set upon by the giant Orgoglio. 
After a hopeless struggle he is struck down by the giant's club 
and is thrust into a dungeon, Una is informed by the dwarf of the 
Knight's misfortune and is prostrated with grief. Meeting Prince 
Arthur, she is persuaded to tell her story and receives promise of 
his assistance. 

11. The Allegory: 1. The Christian soldier, beguiled by False- 
hood, doffs the armor of God, and indulges in sinful pleasures, and 
loses his purity. He then quickly falls into the power of Carnal 
Pride, or the brutal tyranny of False Religion (Orgoglio). He can 
then be restored only by an appeal to the Highest Honor or Mag- 
nificence (Prince Arthur) through the good offices of Truth and 
Common Sense. 

2. In the reaction from the Reformation, Protestant England by 
dallying with Romanism (Duessa, Mary Queen of Scots) falls under 
the tyrannic power of the Pope (Orgoglio), with whom Catholic 
England was coquetting. At this juncture National Honor and 
Consciousness comes to the relief of Protestantism. There is per- 
sonal compliment to either Lord Leicester or Sir Philip Sidney. 

ig. He feedes upon, he enjoys. A Latinism : cf. Vergil's 
JEneid, iii. 

37. Phoebe, a surname of Diana, or Artemis, the goddess of the 
moon, 

45. Spenser probably takes the suggestion from the fountain in the 
gardens of Armida in Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered^ xiv, 74. Cf. 
also the fountain of Salmacis in Ovid's Metamorphoses, xv, 319 seq. 



258 CANTO VII [Pages lia-123 

56. Pourd out, a metaphor borrowed from Euripides {Herac, 
75) and Vergil (^neid, ix, 317). 

62. his looser make, his too dissohite companion. 

67. An hideous Geant, Orgoglio, symbolizing Inordinate Pride, 
and the Tope of Rome, who then claimed universal power over 
both church and state (x). For a list of many other giants of 
romance see Brewer's Handbook, pp. 376-379. 

104. that divelish yron Engin, cannon. The invention of artil- 
lery by infernal ingenuity is an old conception of the poets. There 
is a suggestion of it in Vergil's ^neid, vi, 585 seq. , which is elabo- 
rated in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, ix, 91, which Milton in turn 
imitated in Paradise Lost, vi, 516 seq. So in the romance of Sir 
Triamour. 

112. th' onely breath, the mere breath. 

119, do him not to dye, slay him not ; cf. " done to death." 

138. A monstrous beast, on which the woman of Babylon sat ; 
Bevelation, xiii and xvii, 7. 

139. This refers to the Komish policy of fostering ignorance 
among its members. 

140. that renowmed Snake, the Lerntean Hydra, a monster with 
nine or more heads, offspring of Typhon and Echidna. It was 
slain by Hercules. Stremona is a name of Spenser's own invention. 

147. The reference is to the cruelty and insensibility of the 
Romish Church. 

150. Its tail reached to the stars. Bevelation, xii, 4. 

155. and holy heasts foretaught, and holy commands previously 
tflught (them). 

161. his forlorne weed, his abandoned clothing. 

165. moniments, the sorrowful, mournful relics. 

182. So hardly he, etc. So he with difficulty coaxes the life 
which has flown to return into her body. According to the Pla- 
tonic teaching, the body is the prison-house of the soul. Cf. 
Psalms, cxlii, 7- 



Pagks 123-127] NOTES 259 

202. But seeled up with death, but closed in death. "Seel" 
was a term in falconry, meaning "to sew up" (the eyes of the 
hawk), 

219. the bitter balefull stound, the bitter, gTievous moment dur- 
ing which she listens to the story. 

220. If lesse then that I feare, etc., if it is less bitter than I fear 
it is, I shall have found more favor (been more fortunate) than I 
expected. 

231. sorrowfull assay, the assault of sorrow (on her heart). 

236. Was never Lady, etc. , there never was lady who loved day 
(life) dearer. 

249. A goodly knight. Prince Arthur, son of King Utlier 
Pendragon and Queen Ygerne, the model English gentleman, in 
whom all the virtues are perfected (Magnificence). According to 
Upton and most editors, Prince Arthur represents Lord Leicester ; 
according to another tradition, Sir Philip Sidney. Could the 
author have possibly intended in him compliment to Sir Walter 
Kaleigh ? See Spenser's Letter to Baleigh. Arthur is the beau 
ideal of knighthood, and upon him the poet lavishes his richest 
descriptive powers. His armor, 'his shield Pridwen, his lance 
Koan, and sword Exculibur, were made by the great enchanter 
Merlin in the isle of Avallon. 

259. Shapt like a Ladies head, an eftigy of Queen Elizabeth, 
the Faerie Queene. 

260. Like Hesperus, the evening star. Cf. Phosphorus, the 
morning star. 

268. The dragon couchant was also the crest of Arthur's father, 
Uther, surnamed on this account Pen-dragon. The description in 
this stanza is imitated from Tasso's description of the helmet of 
the Sultan in Jerusalem Delivered, ix, 25, which in turn follows 
Vergil's ^neid, vii, 785 seq. 

280. greene Selinis, a town in Sicily. 

284. His warlike shield. Spenser here follows closely the de- 



260 CANTO VII [Pages 127-130 

scription of the shield of the magician Atlante in Ariosto's Orlando 
Furioso, ii, 55. 

300. silver Cynthia, the moon. It was popularly supposed 
that magicians and witches had power to cause eclipses of the 
moon. 

304. All falsehood and deception. Truth and Wisdom are sym- 
bolized (Upton). 

306. when him list, when it pleased him. Him is dative. 

314. It Merlin was. Ambrose Merlin, the prince of enchanters, 
son of the nun Matilda, and an incubus, "half -angel and half- 
man." He made, in addition to Prince Arthur's armor and 
weapons, the Round Table for one hundred and fifty knights at 
Carduel, the magic fountain of love, and built Stonehenge on 
Salisbury Plain. He died spellbound by the sorceress Vivien in a 
hollow oak. See Tennyson's Idylls of the Kbig. 

326. did trample as the aire, curveted as lightly as the air. 

335. And for her humour, etc., and to suit her (sad) mood 
framed fitting conversation. 

355. The subject of found is the substantive clause toho . . . 
impart. 

xli. Observe the antithetical structure of this stanza, both in the 
Stichomuthia, or balance of line against line, and in the lines 
themselves. In this rapid word-play Arthur wins his point by 
appealing to Una's faith. 

363. No faith so fast, etc., no faith is so firm that human in- 
firmity may not injure it. 

376. Una, Truth, is the sole daughter of Eden. 

377. whilest equal destinies, etc., whilst their destinies (Fates) 
revolved equally and undisturbed in their orbits. (Astronomical 
figure.) 

381. Phison and Euphrates, etc., three of the four rivers that 
watered Eden, the Hiddekel being omitted. See Genesis, ii, 11-14. 
In this stanza the poet strangely mixes Christian doctrine and the 



Pages 130-133] NOTES 261 

classical belief in the envy of the gods working the downfall of 
men. 

385. Tartary, Tartarus (for the rhyme), the lowest circle of tor- 
ment in the infernal regions. 

391. Has this obscure line any reference to prophecy ? Cf. 
Daniel^ vii, 25, Bevelation, xii, 6, 14. 

394. that heaven walks about, under the sky. 

404. That noble order, the Order of the Garter, of which the 
Maiden Queen was head. The figure of St. George slaying the 
dragon appears on the oval and pendant to the collar of this Order. 

405. of Gloriane, Queen Elizabeth. 

407. Cleopolis is red, is called Cleopolis, i.e. the city of Glory, 
or London. 

425. my dolefull disaventurous deare, my sad misadventurous 
injury. 

429. That he my captive languor, the languishing captivity of 
my parents. 

432. My loyalty, i.e. the loyalty of me that rather death de- 
sire, etc. 

441. That brought not backe, etc., (and whence) the body full 
of evil was not brought back dead. 

Questions and Topics 

(Canto VII) 

1. Relate how the Knight fell into the hands of the Giant. 
2. Note the fine adaptation of sound to sense in vii, 3. Who were 
the parents and the foster-father of Orgoglio ? 4. What are the 
principal characteristics of the giants of romance as seen in 
Orgoglio ? cf. with the giants in Pilgrim''s Progress. 5. In the 
description of the giant do the last two lines (viii) add to or detract 
from the impression ? Why ? 6. To whom does Spenser ascribe 
the invention of artillery ? 7. Explain the allegory involved in the 



262 CANTO VII [Page 134 

relations of Duessa and Orgoglio. 8. How does Una act' on hear- 
ing the news of the Knight's capture ? 9. What part does the 
Dwarf play ? 10. Is Una just to herself in 11. 200-201 ? 11. Is 
she over sentimental or ineffective — and is the pathos of her grief 
kept within the limits of the reader's pleasure ? 12. Express in 
your own words the main thought in xxii. 13. Note the skillful 
summary of events in xxvi, and observe that this stanza is the 
Central Crisis and Pivotal Point of the whole Book. The fortunes 
of the Knight reach their lowest ebb and begin to turn. The first 
half of the Book has been the complication of the plot, the second 
half will be the resolution. 14. Give a description of Prince 
Arthur. 15. What mysterious power was possessed by his shield ? 
Cf . the Holy Grail. 16. Observe carefully the scene between Una 
and Arthur, noting the changes in her mood. What light is 
thrown on her character? What are her feelings toward the 
Knight ? 17. Explain the various threads of allegory in this Canto. 

CANTO VIII 

1. The Plot : Prince Arthur and Una are conducted by the Dwarf 
to Orgoglio's Castle. At the blast of the Squire's horn the Giant 
comes forth attended by Duessa mounted on the seven-headed Beast. 
In the battle which ensues Arthur wounds the Beast, slays the Giant 
and captures Duessa. Prince Arthur finds the Redcross Knight half 
starved in a foul dungeon and releases him. Duessa is stripped of 
her gaudy clothes and allowed to hide herself in the wilderness. 

II. The Allegory : 1. Magnificence, the sum of all the virtues, 
wins the victory over Carnal Pride, and restores Holiness to its 
better half. Truth. With the overthrow of Pride, Falsehood, which 
is the ally of that vice, is stripped of its outward show and exposed 
in all its hideous deformity, 

2. The false Romish Church becomes drunk in the blood of the 
martyrs. There is a hint of the persecutions in the Netherlands, 



Pages 135-140] NOTES 263 

in Piedinont, of the massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day and the 
burnings under Bloody Mary. Protestant England is delivered from 
Popish tyranny by the honor and courage of the English people. 
Militant England (Prince Arthur) is assisted by the clergy (Squire) 
with his horn (Bible) and is guided by Truth and Common Sense 
(Dwarf). 

23. an home of bugle small, the English Bible. Spenser here 
imitates the description of the magic horn of Logistilla in Ariosto's 
Orlando Furioso, xv, 15, 53. Such horns are frequently mentioned 
in romance, e.g., Chanson de Boland, MortecV Arthur, Hawes' Pas- 
time., Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered., Huon of Bordeaux, liomance 
of Sir Otarcl, Cervantes' Don Quixote, etc. 

50. late cniell feast, a probable reference to the massacre of 
St. Bartholomew's Day in Paris in 1572, and to the persecutions 
of Alva's Council of Blood in the Netherlands in 1567. 

ix. This stanza is an imitation of Homer's Iliad, xiv, 414. 

95. in Cymbrian plaine, probably the Crimea, the ancient Tauric 
Chersonese. Some connect it with the Cimbric Chersonese, or Jut- 
land, which was famous for its herds of bulls. 

96. kindly rage, natural passion. 

105. Note the Latinism "threatened his heads," and the im- 
perfect rhyme "brands." 

118. her golden cup, suggested by Circe's magic cup in Homer's 
Odyssey, x, 316, and the golden cup of the Babylonish woman in 
Bevelation, xvii, 4, 

148. Through great impatience of his grieved hed, etc., through 
inability to endure (the pain of) his wounded head, he would have 
cast down his rider, etc. 

155. In one alone left hand, in one hand alone remaining. His 
left arm had been cut off (x). 

xix. The uncovered shield represents the open Bible. The 
incident is an imitation of Ruggiero's display of his shield in 
Orlando Furioso, xxii, 85. 



264 CANTO VIII [Pages 143-148 

246. Your fortune maister, etc., be master of your fortune by 
good management. 

268. unused rust, rust which is due to disuse ; a Latinism. 

296. With natures pen, etc., i.e. by his gray hairs, at that age to 
which proper seriousness belongs. " I cannot tell " did not become 
his venerable looks. 

310. That greatest Princes, etc. This may mean (1) befitting 
the presence of the greatest princes, or (2) that the greatest princes 
might deign to behold in person. The first interpretation is pref- 
erable. 

312. A general reference to the bloody persecutions without re- 
gard to age or sex carried on for centuries by the Romish Church, 
often under the name of "crusades," "acts of faith," "holy 
inquisition," etc. 

315. This may refer to the burning of heretics, under the pre- 
text that the Church shed no blood. Kitchin thinks that it means 
" accursed ashes." 

317. An Altare, cf. Bevdation, vi, 9. Carv'd with cunning 
ymagery, "in aUusion to the stimulus given to the fine arts by the 
Church of Rome " (Percival). 

366. brawned bowrs, brawny muscles. 

375. what evill starre, etc. In Spenser's day, belief in astrol- 
ogy, the pseudo-science of the influence of the stars on human 
lives, was still common. 

381. There was an old familiar ballad entitled Fortune 'my 
Foe. 

384. i.e. your good fortune will be threefold as great as your 
evil fortune. 

384. good growes of evils priefe, good springs out of our en- 
durance of the tests and experience of evil. 

391. Best musicke breeds delight, etc. A troublesome passage. 
Upton and Jortin emend delight to dislike ; Church inserts no 
before delight and omits best ; Kitchin suggests despight ; Grosart 



Page 149] NOTES 265 

prefers the text as it stands with the meaning that although the 
best music pleases the troubled mind, it is no pleasure to renew the 
memory of past sufferings. I venture to offer still another solution, 
based on the context. When Una shows a desire to hear from her 
Knight a recountal of his sufferings in the dungeon, and he is silent, 
being loath to speak of them, Arthur reminds her that a change 
of subject is best, for the best music is that which breeds delight 
in the troubled ear. 

xlvi. In this passage Spenser follows closely the description of the 
witch Alcina in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, vii, 73. Rogero has been 
fascinated by her false beauty, and her real foulness is exposed by 
means of a magic ring. The stripping of Duessa symbolizes the 
proscription of vestments and ritual, and the overthrow of images, 
etc., at the time of the Reformation. Duessa is only banished to the 
wilderness, not put to death, and reappears in another book of the 
poem. 

Questions and Topics 

(Canto VIII) 

1. What moral reflections are found in i ? 2. What were the 
duties of the Squire in chivalry ? 3. What part does Arthur's 
Squire play ? 4. What does the Squire's horn symbolize ? 5. Ob- 
serve the classical figure in ix. 6. Describe the battle before the 
Giant's Castle, stating what part is taken by each of the four engaged. 

7. Point out several of the characteristics of a typical battle of 
romance, and compare with combats in classical and modern times. 

8. What additional traits of Una's character are presented in this 
Canto ? Note especially her treatment of the Knight, 9. How is 
the unchangeableness of truth illustrated in this story ? 10. Who is 
the old man in xxx seq. ? 11. Who is the wofiil thrall in xxxvii ? 
12. In what condition, mental and physical, is the Knight when 
liberated ? 13. How long was he a captive ? 14. What was 
Duessa's punishment ? Was it adequate ? Explain its moral and 



2GG CANTO IX [Pages 151-152 

religious meaning. 15. Observe the use of thou and ye (you) in 
this Canto. 16. Find examples of antithesis, alliteration, Latin- 
isms. 

CANTO IX 

1. The Plot : Prince Arthur tells Una of his vision of the Faerie 
Queene and of his quest for her. After exchanging presents with 
the Redcross Knight, he bids farewell to Una and her companions. 
These pursue their journey and soon meet a young knight, Sir 
Trevisan, fleeing from Despair. Sir Trevisan tells of his narrow 
escape from this old man, and unwillingly conducts the Redcross 
Knight back to his cave. The Knight enters and is almost per- 
suaded to take his own life. He is saved by the timely interposi- 
tion of Una. This is the most powerful canto of Book I. 

II. The Allegory : 1. The moral allegory in Canto VII presents 
the transition of the Soul (Redcross) from Pride to Sin (Duessa) 
through distrust of Truth (Una), and it thus comes into the bondage 
of Carnal Pride (Orgoglio). In Canto IX the Soul suffers a similar 
change from Sin to Despair. Having escaped from actual sin, but 
with spiritual life weakened, it almost falls a victim to Despair 
through excess of confidence and zeal to perform some good action. 
The Soul is saved by Truth, by which it is reminded to depend on 
the grace of God. 

2. The allegory on its religious side seems to have some obscure 
reference to the long and bitter controversies between Protestantism 
(Calvinism) and Roman Catholicism allied with infidelity. 

I. goodly golden chaine, chivalry or knightly honor, the bond 
that unites all the virtues. 

i8. thanklesse, because not knowing whom to thank. 

26. In Malory's Morte (f Arthur, Arthur is taken from his 
mother, Ygerne, at birth, and committed to the care of Sir Ector 
as his foster-father, i, 3. In Merlin Sir Antor is his foster-father. 

33. Rauran mossy hore, Rauran white with moss. A " Rau- 



Pages 152-158] NOTES 267 

ran-vaur hill" in Merionethshire is mentioned by Selden. Con- 
trary to the older romancers, Spenser makes Prince Arthur a 
Welshman, not a Cornishman. 

34. the river Dee, which rises in Merionethshire and flows 
through Lake Bala. 

39. my discipline to frame, etc., to plan my course of instruc- 
tion, and, as my tutor, to supervise my bringing up. 

45. in her just terme, in due time. 

57. or that fresh bleeding wound, i.e. his love for Gloriana. 

59. With forced fury, etc., supplying "me" from "my" in 
1. 58 the meaning is : the wound . . . brought ... me following its 
bidding with compulsive (passionate) fury, etc. In the sixteenth 
century his was still almost always used as the possessive of it. Its 
does not occur in the King James Version of the Bible (1611). 

63. Could ever find (the heart) to grieve, etc. A Euphuistic 
conceit. 

64. According to the physiology of Spenser's age, love was sup- 
posed to dry up the humors ("moysture") of the body. 

70. But told, i.e. if it (my love) is told. 

100. Ensample make of him, witness him (the Redcross 
knight) . 

113. Whiles every sence, etc., while the sweet moisture bathed 
all my senses. 

146. Next to that Ladies love, i.e. next to his love (loyalty) for 
Gloriana. Does the poet mean that allegiance to queen and coun- 
try comes before private affection ? 

149. Was firmest fixt, etc., were strongest in my extremity (in 
the giant's dungeon). 

169. A booke, the New Testament, an appropriate gift from the 
champions of the Reformed Church. 

182. An armed knight. Sir Trevisan, who symbolizes Fear. 

189. Pegasus, the winged horse of the Muses. For note on the 
false possessive with his., see p. 248. 



268 CANTO IX [Pages 159-164 

233. had not greater grace, etc., had not greater grace (than 
was granted my comrade) saved me from it, I should have been 
partaker (with him of his doom) in that place. 

249. after faire areedes, afterwards graciously tells. 

267. with dying feare, with fear of dying. 

269. Whose like infirmitie, etc., i.e. if you are a victim of love, 
you may also fall into the hands of despair. 

270. But God you never let, but may God never let you, etc. 

272. to spoyle the Castle of his health, to take his own life. 
Cf. Eliot's Castell of Helthe, published in 1534. 

273. I wote, etc. I, whom recent trial hath taught, and who 
would not (endure the) like for all the wealth of this world, know 
(how a man may be so gained over to destroy himself). 

275. This simile is a very old one. See Homer's Iliad, i, 249; 
Odi/ssey, xviii, 283; So7ig of Solomon, iv, 11; and Tasso's Jeru- 
salem Delivered, ii, 51. 

286. for gold nor glee. Cf. for love or money. 

294-296. Imitated from Vergil's JEneid, vi, 462. 

315. as, as if. 

320. A drearie corse, Sir Terwin, mentioned in xxvii. 

332. judge against thee right, give just judgment against thee. 

333- to price, to pay the price of. 

336. What justice, etc., what justice ever gave any other judg- 
ment but (this, that) he, who deserves, etc. 

340. Is then unjust, etc, is it then unjust to give each man his 
due ? 

xxxix. Observe the subtle argument on suicide in this and 
St. xl. 

xli. Spenser here puts into the mouth of the Knight Socrates' 
argument to Cebes in their dialogue on the immortahty of the 
soul. Plato's Fhcedo, vi. 

367. Quoth he. Despair. 

403. thy date, the allotted measure or duration of thy life. 



Pages 166-109] NOTES 269 

408. thy sinfull hire, thy service of sin. 

431. As he were charmed, etc., as if he were under the spell of 
DicOgic incantation. 

438. in a table, in a picture. The horrors of the Last Judgment 
and tlie torments of the lost were favorite subjects of the mediaeval 
Catholic painters. 

468. fire-mouthed Dragon. The dragons of romance are all de- 
scribed as fire-breathing, 

473. that chosen art, a reference to the doctrine of Election. 
3Iarl; xiii, 20. 

476. accurst hand-writing. A reference to Paul's letter to the 
Colossians, ii, 14, in which he declares that the gospel of grace has 
superseded the law of Moses. 

484. he so himselfe had drest, he had thus attempted (to take 
his life). 

Questions and Topics 

(Cauto IX) 

1. Give an account of Prince Arthur's vision of the Faerie 
Queene. 2. Interpret his search for her as an allegory of the 
young man's quest after his ideal. 3. Observe in xvii an allusion 
to Spenser's patron, Lord Leicester, who was a favored suitor for 
Elizabeth's hand. 4. What presents did the Knights exchange at 
parting? 5. Characterize Sir Trevisan by his appearance, speech, 
and actions. What does he symbolize? 6. Note the skill with 
which Spenser arouses interest before telling of the interview with 
Despair. 7. What was the fate of Sir Terwin ? Its moral signifi- 
cance ? 8. Describe the Cave of Despair, and show what effects 
are aimed at by the poet. 9. Compare with Despair Bunyan's 
Giant Despair and the Man in the Iron Cage. 10. Trace the 
sophistries by which Despair works in the mind of the Knight, e.g. 
the arguments from necessity (fatalism), humanity, cowardice, 
discouragement and disgust on account of his past failures, dread 



270 CANTO X [Page 170 

of tlie future, of God's justice, and the relief of death. 11. Does 
Despair show knowledge of the Knight's past ? 12. With what 
powerful truths does Una meet the arguments of Despair ? 
lo. Where do you find reference to mediaeval art ? 

14. Find examples of Euphuism^ metaphors^ similes, Latinisms, 
and alliteration. 15. Explain the verb forms in 11. 154, 321, 336, 

CANTO X 

1. The Plot : The Redcross Knight is conducted by Una to the 
House of Holiness, where they are welcomed by Dame Coelia and 
graciously entertained. The Kniglit is instructed by Fidelia, 
Speranza, and Charissa, the three daughters of Coelia, in his rela- 
tions to God and his fellow-men. He is healed in body, and 
undergoes discipline for his sins. Mercy conducts him through the 
Hospital of Good Works, where he sees her seven Beadsmen. He 
then with Una climbs the Hill of Contemplation and hears from a 
holy man the story of his past with a prophecy of his future, and 
obtains a view of the City of Heaven. 

This must be pronounced the most beautiful canto of the first 
book. 

ir. The Allegory: 1. The Soul is brought by the Truth to a 
knowledge of the Heavenly Life (Coelia), and is led, through 
repentance, to seek forgiveness and to desire a holier life. Having 
learned Faith and Hope, it acquires a zeal for Good Works (Charity) , 
and is strengthened by exercising Patience and Repentance. At 
last it enjoys a mood of happy Contemplation of the past with 
bright prospects for the future. The whole canto sets forth the 
beauty in a life of faith combined with good deeds. 

2. The religions allegory presents the doctrine, discipline, and 
spirit of Protestantism in the sixteenth century. A close parallel 
may be drawn between this canto and many things in Bunyan's 
Pilgrini^s Progress. For his House of Holiness and its manage- 



Pages 171-180] NOTES 271 

ment, Spenser has no doubt taken many suggestions from the great 
manor house of some P^lizabethan gentleman. 

19. an auntient house, the House of Holiness. 

28. Dame Coelia, i.e. the Heavenly Lady. 

33. Fidelia and Speranza, Faith and Hope. 

35. faire Charissa, Charity, or Love. Cf. I Corinthians, xiii, 13. 

44. Hight Humilta, named Humility. 

59. And knew his good, etc., and knew how to conduct himself 
to all of every rank. 

77. ever-dying dread, constant dread of death. 

78. long a day, many a long day. 

79. thy weary soles to lead, to guide thy weary feet (to rescue 
them), 

xiii. The description of Fidelia is full of biblical allusions, viz. ; 
her white robe {Revelation, vii, 9) ; the sacramental cup filled with 
wine and water according to the custom of the early Christians 
(John, xix, 34); the serpent symbolical of healing power (Numbers, 
xxi, and Mark, xiv, 24); the book sealed with the blood of the 
Lamb {Bevdation, v, 1, and II Corinthians, v, 7). 

144. encrease is in the optative subj. with God as subject. 

172. And when she list, etc., and when it pleased her' to 
manifest her higher spiritual power. These miracles of Faith 
are based on the following passages : Joshua, x, 12 ; // Kiiujs, 
XX, 10; Judges, vii, 7; Exodus, xiv, 21 ; Joshua, iii, 17; Jlat- 
thcio, xxi, 21. 

176. This line is given in the folio edition of 1609, but is want- 
ing in the edition of 1590 and 1596. 

209. hardly him intreat, scarcely i^revail on him. 

213. The absolutions granted by the clergy. 

215. the passion of his plight, his suffering condition. 

XXX. Percival points out the resemblance between Spenser's 
Charity and Andrea del Sarto's famous painting La Charite in the 
Louvre. 



272 CANTO X [Pages 180-188 

277. Whose passing price, etc., whose surpassing value it was 
difficult to calculate. 

292. well to donne, well doing, right doing. 

318. seven Bead-men, seven men of prayer, corresponding to 
the Seven Deadly Sins of the House of Pride. They represent 
good works: (1) entertainment of strangers; (2) food to the 
needy; (3) clothing to the naked ; (4) relief to prisoners ; (5) com- 
fort to the sick ; (6) burial of the dead, and (7) care of widows 
and orphans. 

354. price of bras, ransom in money. Bras is a Latinism from <xs. 

355. From Turkes and Sarazins. In the sixteenth century thou- 
sands of Christians were held captive in Turkish and Saracen pris- 
ons, and many of these were ransomed by the charitable of Europe. 
Prescott tells us that Charles V found 10,000 Christians in Tunis 
at its capture in 1535. 

359. he that harrowd hell. The Harrowing of Hell was the 
mediaeval belief in the descent of Christ to hell to redeem the souls 
of Old Testament saints, and to despoil the powers of darkness. 
It is the subject of an old miracle play. 

374. The reference is to the resurrection from the dead. 

378. I dead be not defould, that I (when) dead be not defiled. 
This prayer was answered, for the poet received honorable burial 
in Westminster Abbey. 

381. And widowes ayd, i.e. had charge (to) aid widows, etc. 

382. In face of judgement, before the judgment-seat. 
422-423. his . . . her, Redcross Knight . . . mercy. 

430. For nought he car'd, for he cared nought that his body had 
been long unfed. 

470. that same mighty man of God, Moses. See Exodus, xiv, 
16, xxiv, and xxxiv. 

471. That blood-red billowes, of the Red Sea. 
478. that sacred hill, the mount of Olives. 

483. that pleasaunt Mount, mount Parnassus, the seat of the 



Pages 188-1<)1>] NOTES 27 o 

nine Muses (I. 485), the patronesses of the arts and of learning. 
Sacred and profane literature are beautifully blended in the 
thoughts of the contemplative man, 

489. a goodly Citie, the Celestial City, Heaven. The description 
is suggested by that in Revelation, xxi, 10 seq. 

515. That great Cleopolis, London, "the city of glory." 

519. Panthea, probably Westminster Abbey, in which Eliza- 
beth's ancestors were buried. 

524. for earthly frame, for an earthly structure. 

549. Saint George of mery England. St. George became the 
patron Saint of England in 1344, when Edward III consecrated to 
him the Order of the Garter. Church and Percival say that merry 
means pleasant and referred originally to the country, not the 
people. Cf. Mereweather. 

Lxii. Observe that lines 1, 2, 5, 6 are spoken by the Knight, the 
rest by Contemplation. 

565. bequeathed care, the charge intrusted to thee (by Una). 

579. and many bloody battalias, etc., and fought many bloody 
pitched battles. 

585. Chaungelings. The belief in the power of fairies to substi- 
tute their elf-children for human babies is frequently referred to in 
writers of Spenser's time. In the Seven Chamjnons the witch Kalyb 
steals away St. George, the son of Lord Albert of Coventry, soon 
after his birth. 

591. Georgos, from the Greek yeupyds, an earth tiller, farmer. 
Spenser borrows the story in this stanza from that of Tages, son of 
Earth, who was similarly found and brought up. Ovid's 3Ietamor- 
phoses, XV, 553. 

QUESTIOKS AND TOPICS 

(Canto X) 

1. Observe that stanza i contains the moral of Canto IX. 2. What 
was Una's purpose in bringing the Knight to the House of Holiness ? 



274 CANTO XI [Page 193 

3. Why should Faith and Hope be represented as betrothed vh-gins, 
and Charity a matron ? 4. Who were Zeal, Keverence, Obedience, 
Patience, and Mercy, with the symbolism of each ? 5. Who was 
the door-keeper ? Explain the allegory. 6. Find and explain the 
biblical allusions in this Canto, which shows the influence of the 
Bible to a remarkable extent. 7. In what was the Knight in- 
structed by Faith (xix seq.) ? 8. Compare the mood of the Knight 
in xxi with that in Canto IX, li. 9. IIow did the two situations 
affect Una? 10. Note the teachings in xxiii (prayer), xxiv (abso- 
lution), and XXV (mortification of the flesh). 11, Observe that 
Faith teaches the Knight his relations to God ; Charity, those to his 
fellow-men. 12. Explain the lyric note in 1. 378. 13. Give an ac- 
count of the knight's visit to the Hill of Contemplation. Explain 
the allegory. 14. Find a stanza complimentary to Queen Elizabeth. 
15. What prophecy was made of the Knight? 



CANTO XI 

I. Tlie Plot : The Redcross Knight reaches the Brazen Tower in 
which Una's parents, the King and Queen of Eden, are besieged by 
the Dragon. The monster is described. The first day's fight is de- 
scribed, in which the Knight is borne through the air in the Dragon's 
claws, wounds him under the wing with his lance, but is scorched 
by the flames from the monster's mouth. The Knight is healed by a 
bath in the Well of Life. On the second day the Knight gives the 
Dragon several sword-wounds, but is stung by the monster's tail and 
forced to retreat by the flames. That night he is refreshed and 
healed by the balm from the Tree of Life. On the third day he 
slays the Dragon by a thrust into his vitals. 

II. Tlie Allegory : 1. Mankind has been deprived of Eden by 
Sin or Satan (Dragon). The Christian overcomes the devil by means 
of the whole armor of God (shield of faith, helmet of salvation, 



Pages 193-197] ^^OTES 275 

« 
sword of the Spirit, etc.). The soul is strengthened by the ordi- 
nances of religion : baptism, regeneration, etc. 

2. There is a hint of the long and desperate struggle between 
Reformed England (St. George) and the Church of Rome, in which 
the power of tlie Pope and the King of Spain was broken in Eng- 
land, the Netherlands, and other parts of Europe. Some may see a 
remoter allusion to the delivery of Ireland from the same tyranny. 

13. be at your keeping well, be well on your guard. 

iii. This stanza is not found in the edition of 1590. 

30. And seemd uneath, etc., and seemed to shake the steadfast 
ground (so that it became) unstable. Church and Nares take un- 
eath to mean "beneath" or "underneath"; Kitchin conjectures 
" almost." 

31. that dreadful Dragon, symbolical of Satan. Spenser here 
imitates the combat between St. George and the Dragon in the 
Seven Champions of Christendom^ i. 

32. This description of the dragon watching the tower from the 
sunny hillside is justly admired for its picturesqueness, power, 
and suggestiveness. The language is extremely simple, but the 
effect is awe-inspiring. It has been compared with Turner's great 
painting of the Dragon of the Hesperides. 

42. thou sacred muse, Clio, the Muse of History, whom 
Spenser calls the daughter of Phoebus (Apollo) and Mnemosyne 
(Memory). 

56, till I of warres, etc. Spenser is here supposed to refer 
to his plan to continue the Faerie Queene and treat of the w^ars 
of the English with Philip II ("Paynim King") and the Spanish 
(" Sarazin"). 

61. let downe that haughtie string, etc., cease that high-pitched 
strain and sing a second (or tenor) to my (lower) tune. 

120. As two broad Beacons. Kitchin thinks this passage is a 
reminiscence of the beacon-tires of July 20, 1588, which signaled 
the arrival of the Armada off the Cornish coast. 



276 CANTO XI [Pages 199-203 

158. Her flitting parts, her shifting parts ; referring to tlie in- 
stability of tlie air. 

161. low stoaping, swooping low (to the ground); a term in 
falconry. 

167. hagard hauke, a wild, untamed falcon. 

168. above his hable might, beyond the strengtli of which he is 
capable. 

172. 1. He so disseized, etc., i.e. tlie dragon being tlms dispos- 
sessed of his rough grip. The construction is nominative absolute. 

185. And greedy gulfe does gape, etc., i.e. the greedy waters 
gape as if they would devour the land. 

187. the blustring brethren, the winds. 

228. his wide devouring oven, the furnace of his maw, or belly. 

235. that great Champion, Hercules. The charmed garment 
steeped in the blood of the Centaur Nessus, whom Hercules liad 
slain, was given him by his wife Dejanira in order to win back 
his love. Instead of acting as a philter, the poison-robe burned 
the flesh from his body. Ovid's Metamorphoses., ix, 105. 

xxviii. Observe the correspondence between the adjectives in 
1. 244 and the nouns in 1. 245. The sense is : "He was so faint," 
etc. 

261. The well of life. This incident is borrowed from Bevis of 
Hampton. The allegory is based on John., iv, 14, and lievelation, 
xxii, i. 

267. Silo, the healing Pool of Siloam, John, ix, 7. Jordan, by 
bathing in which Naaman was healed of leprosy, II Kings, v, 10. 

268. Bath, in Somersetshire, a town famous from the earliest 
times for its medicinal baths. Span, a town in Belgium noted 
for its healthful waters, now a generic name for German watering- 
places. 

269. Cephise, the river Cephissus in Boeotia whose waters pos- 
sessed the power of bleaching the fleece of sheep. Cf. Isaiah, 
i, 18. Hebrus, a river in Thrace, here mentioned because it 



Pages 204-211] NOTES 277 

awaked to music the head and lyre of the dead Orpheus, as he 
floated down its stream. Ovid's Metamorphoses^ xi, 50. 

295. to move, moving. This is a Frencli idiom. 

300. As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean wave, etc. There was 
an ancient belief, that once in ten years the eagle would soar 
into the empyrean, and plunging thence into the sea, would 
molt his plumage and renew his youth with a fresh supply of 
feathers. 

312. his bright deaw-burning blade, his bright blade flashing 
with the "holy water dew" in which it had been hardened 
(1. 317). 

322. Ne molten mettall in his blood embrew, i.e. nor sword 
bathe itself in his (the dragon's) blood. 

335. With sharpe intended sting, with sharp, outstretched 
sting, 

366. the griped gage, the pledge (shield) seized (by the 
dragon). 

386. missed not his minisht might, felt not the loss of it's 
diminished strength ; i.e. though cut off, the paw still held to the 
shield. 

xliv. In comparing the fire-spewing dragon to a volcano, Spenser 
follows Vergil's ^Eneid^ iii, 571, and Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered^ 
iv, 8. 

406. a goodly tree. Cf. Genesis, ii, 9, and Bevelation, xxii, 2. 

409. over all were red, everywhere were spoken of. 

414. Cf . Genesis, iii, 2. Adam and Eve were expelled from the 
garden lest they should eat and live forever. 

434. deadly made, a creature of death, i.e. hell-born. 

469. An imitation of an incident in the Seven Champions in 
which a winged serpent attempts to swallow St. George ; i, 1. 

477. And back retyrd, and as it was withdrawn. A Gallicism. 

490. which she misdeem'd, in which she was mistaken. Una 
feared that the dragon was not dead. 



278 CANTO XII [Page 212 

Questions and Topics 
(Canto XI) 
1. Describe the three days' fight between the Knight and the 
Dragon. 2. What advantages does each gain ? 3. Study the Dragon 
as a type of the conventional monster of romance, contrasting his 
brutal nature with the intellectuality and strategy of the Knight. 
4. Study the battle as an allegory of the victory of mind over mat- 
ter, of virtue over vice, of Protestantism over Romanism. 5. By 
what devices does Spenser obtain the effects of terror 9 Mystery 
and terror are prime elements in romance. 6. Find examples of 
another romantic characteristic, exaggeration. 7. Do you think 
that in his use of hyperbole and impossibilities Spenser shows that 
he was deficient in a sense of humor ? 8. Observe the lyric note in 
iii and liv. 9. How does the poet impress the reader with the size 
of the Dragon ? 10. Which Muse does he invoke ? 11. Spenser's 
poetry is richly sensuous : find passages in which he appeals to the 
s^nse of sight (iv, viii, xiv), of sound (iv, ix), of touch (x, xi, vii), 
of smdl (xiii), of taste (xiii), of. pain (xxxvii, xxvi, xxii), of motion 
(x, XV, xviii). 12. Where do you find an allegory of baptism ? Of 
regeneration ? Of the resurrection of Christ (the three days) ? 13. 
Analyze the descriptions of the coming of darkness and of dawn. 

CANTO XII 

I. TJie Plot : The death of the dragon is announced by the watch- 
man on the tower of the city, and Una's parents, the King and 
Queen, accompanied by a great throng, come forth rejoicing at their 
deliverance. The Knight and Una are conducted with great honors 
into the palace. On the eve of their betrothal, Archimago suddenly 
appears as Duessa's messenger and claims the Knight. Their 
wicked attempt is frustrated, and the pair are happily betrothed. 
After a long time spent in Una's society, the Knight sets out to 
engage in the further service of the Faerie Queene. 



Pages 212-219] NOTES 279 

II. The Allegory : Holiness, by conquering the devil, frees the 
whole human race from the tyranny of sin. It is embarrassed by 
the unexpected appearance of the consequences of its past sins, 
but makes a manly confession. In spite of hypocritical intrigues 
(Archimago) and false slanders (Duessa), Holiness is united to 
Truth, thus forming a perfect character. The champion of the 
church militant responds cheerfully to the calls of duty and honor. 

2. Reformed England, having destroyed the brutal power of 
Rome, is firmly united to the truth in spite of the intrigues of the 
Pope to win it back to allegiance. It then goes forth against the 
King of Spain in obedience to the command of Queen Elizabeth. 

3. vera the maine shete, shift the mainsail, beare up with the 
land, direct the ship toward land. 

25. out of hond, at once. 

43. Of tall young men. An allusion to Queen Elizabeth's Pen- 
sioners, a band of the tallest and handsomest young men, of the 
best families and fortunes, that could be found (Warton). All 
hable armes to sownd, all proper to wield amies. 

57. to the Maydens, to the accompaniment of the maidens' 
timbrels. 

71. in her self -resemblance well beseene, looking well in her 
resemblance to her proper self, i.e. a king's daughter. 

73. the raskall many, the crowd of common people. 

116. of great name, of great celebrity, i.e. value. 

117. fitting purpose frame, held fitting conversation. 

xiv. Kitchin and Percival think this whole passage a clever com- 
pliment to the parsimony of the Queen's court. 

161. that proud Paynim king, probably a reference to Philip of 
Spain. 

168. Nor doen undo, nor undo what has been done. 

173. In sort as, even as. 

205. all were she, although she had been. In place, in various 
places. 



280 CANTO XII [Pages 223-226 

313. bait. In Spenser's time bear-baiting was a favorite pas- 
time of the people and received royal patronage. 

328. The housling fire, the sacramental lire. Spenser seems 
here to have in mind, not the Christian housel or Eucharist, but 
the Roman marriage rites with their symbolic fire and water. 

347. trinall triplicities, the threefold three orders of the celes- 
tial hierarchy according to the scholastic theologians. They were 
as follows: (1) Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones; (2) Dominations, 
Virtues, Powers ; (.3) Princedoms, Archangels, and Angels. Cf. 
Dante's Paradiso, xxviii, Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered^ xviii, 9G, 
and Milton's Paradise Lost, v, 748. 

375. her tackles spent, her worn-out rigging. 

QuESTIOxVS AND TOPICS 

(Canto XII) 

1. Contrast the tone of this canto with the preceding two. 2. When 
does Spenser drop into a lighter, humorous vein ? 3. Find allusions 
to sixteenth century customs, e.g. that of sitting on rush-strewn 
floors. 4. How was the Iledcross Knight received by the King ? 
5. Compare Una's costume with that described in the first canto. 
Why tliis change ? 0. What hint of the significance of her name 
in xxi ? 7. What is the effect of Archimago's appearance ? (For 
dramatic surprise.) 8. What is the effect of Duessa's letter? 
(Suspense of fear.) 9. Observe the confusion of Christian and 
Pagan rites in this canto. 10. Where does Spenser make happy 
use of maritime figures ? 11. Explain the allegory of this canto. 



GLOSSARY 

[The numbers refer to cantos and stanzas.] 



Abide, v, 17, to attend on. 

About, i, 11, out of. 

Acquite, viii, 1, release, set free. 

Addrest, ii, 11, armed, equipped; 
X, 11, directed. 

Advise, i, 33, consider. 

Advizement, iv, 12, counsel, ad- 
vice. 

Afflicted, Int. 4, humble. 

Affray, iii, 12, terror, alarm ; v, 
30, to startle. 

Affronted, viii, 13, opposed. 

Afore, X, 49, ahead, in front of. 

Agraste, x, 18, favor, show grace. 

Albe, V, 45, although. 

All, X, 47 ; xii, 23, although. 

Almner, x, 38, almoner, distribu- 
ter of alms. 

Als, ix, 18, also, quite so. 

Amate, ix, 45, dismay, dishearten. 

Amis, iv, 18, linen head-dress. 

Amoves, iv, 45 , viii, 21 ; ix, 18, 
moves. 

Andvile, xi, 42, anvil. 

Apply, X, 46, attend to, add. 

281 



Aread, viii, 31, 33; ix, 6, 23; x, 

51, 64, tell, explain ; xii, 28, 
advise ; ared, x, 17 ; explained ; 
areeds. Int. 1, urges. 

Arise, vi, 32, depart, rise out of. 

Armorie, i, 27, armor. 

Arras, iv, 6 ; viii, 35, tapestry. 

Aslake, iii, 36, appease, abate the 
fury of. 

Assay, ii, 13, approved quality, 
value ; vii, 27, trial ; viii, 8, 
assault ; ii, 24 ; iv, 8 ; viii, 2 ; 
xi, 32, try, assail, attempt. 

Assoiled, x, 52, absolved. 

Astond, ii, 31 ; vi, 9 ; ix, 35, as- 
tounded, amazed. 

Attach, xii, 35, seize, arrest. 

Attaine, ii, 8, reach, fall in with. 

Attaint, vii, 34, obscure, discolor. 

Avale, i, 21, fall, sink. 

Avise, V, 40 ; viii, 15, perceive. 



Baite, i, 32, feed, refresh. 
Bale, i, 16 ; viii, 4, disaster, de- 
struction ; ix, 16, 29, trouble, 

irrief. 



282 



GLOSSARY 



Banes, xii, 36, banns of marriage. 

Battailous, v, 2, warlike, ready 
for battle. 

Battrie, ix, 11, assault. 

Bauldrick, vii, 29, a leather gir- 
dle for the sword or bugle, 
worn pendant across the 
shoulder and breast. 

Bayes, vii, 3, bathes. 

Beades, i, 30, prayers. 

Beadmen, x, 36, men devoted to 
prayer for the soul of the 
founder of the charitable in- 
stitution in which they lived. 

Become, x, 16, gone to ; became, 
X, 66, suited. 

Bed, ix, 41, bid, 

Bedight, xii, 21, adorned. 

Beguyld, xi, 25, foiled. 

Beheast, iv, 18, connnand. 

Behight, x, 64, name, declare ; 
X, 50, intrusted, delivered ; xi, 
38, behot, promised. 

Beseemed, viii, 32, suited, was 
becoming. 

Beseene, xii, 5, (good) looking, 
or (well) dressed. 

Bestedd, i, 24, situated, badly off. 

Bet, iii, 19, beat ; bett, vi, 5. 

Betake, xii, 25, intrust to, hand 
over to. 

Bethrall, viii, 28, imprison, take 
captive. 



Bever, vii, 31, the lower and 
movable part of the helmet. 

Bewaile, vi, 1, cause, bring about. 
Use either forced, or an error 
(Nares). 

Bidding, i, 30, praying. 

Bilive, or blive, v, 32, quickly. 

Blame, ii, 18, hurt, injury, or 
blameworthiness. 

Blaze, xi, 7, proclaim. 

Blent, vi, 42, stained. 

Blesse, v, 6 ; viii, 22, brandish ; 
vii, 12 ; ix, 28, protect, deliver ; 
pp. blest. 

Blubbred, vi, 0, disfigured or swol- 
len with weeping. 

Blunt, X, 47, dim (of eyesight). 

Bond, i, 3, bound. 

Booteth, iii, 20, 40, profits, avails. 

Bootlesse, v, 33, without avail. 

Bost, iii, 24, vain glory. 

Boughtes, i, 15 ; xi, 11, folds, coils. 

Bound, X, 67, lead.. 

Bouzingcan, iv, 22, drinking ves- 
sel. 

Bowrs, viii, 41, muscles. 

Bras, X, 40, money, cf. Lat. aes. 

Brast, V, 31 ; viii, 4 ; ix. 21, burst. 

Brave, x, 42, fair, beautiful. 

Brawned, viii, 41 ; brawny, mus- 
cular. 

Breares, x, 35, briars. 

Brent, ix, 10 ; xi, 28, burnt. 



GLOSSAKY 



283 



Brond, iv, oo ; viii, 21, fire- 
brand. 

Buffe, ii, 17 ; xi, 24, blow. 

Bugle, viii, 3, wild ox. 

Buxome, xi, 37, pliant, yield- 
ing. 

Bylive, ix, 4, quickly. 



Call, viii, 46, cap, headdress. 

Can, iv, 46, an auxiliary verb 
with preterite meaning ; ix, 5, 
can = gan, began (Halliwell). 

Canon, vii, 37, a smooth, round 
bit (for horses). 

Carefull, v, 52, etc., full of care, 
anxious, sorrowful. 

Careless, i, 41 ; ii, 45, free from 
care. 

Carke, i, 44, care, sorrow, anxi- 
ety. 

Carle, ix, 54, churl. 

Cast, X, 2 ; xi, 28, resolve, plan, 

Caytive, v, 45, captive ; v, ii ; 
viii, 32 ; ix, 11, base, mean. 

Chaufe, vii, 21, chafe, warm by 
rubbing ; iii, 33, 43, vex, heat. 

Chaw, iv, 30, jaw. 

Chear, ii, 27, 42, face. 

Chearen, x, 2, regain cheerful- 
ness, refresh (himself). 

Cleare, x, 28, clean. 



Cleene, ix, 4, clear, pure, bright. 

Compare, iv, 28, collect. 

Compel, i, 5, call to aid. 

Conceit, conception or design. 

Constraint, ii, 8, anguish ; vii, 
34, binding charms. 

Corage, ii, 35, heart. 

Corse, iii, 42 ; iv, 22, etc., body. 

Couch, ii, 15, lay (a lance in 
rest), level, adjust ; couched, 
xi, 9, laid in place (of armor 
plates) . 

Couched, vii, 31, lying down 
with head up, ready to spring. 

Counterfesaunce, viii, 40, fraud, 
imposture. 

Court, vii, 38, courteous atten- 
tion. 

Crime, x, 28, sin; xi, 46, cause. 

Cruddy, v, 29, clotted. 

Crudled, vii, 6; ix, 52, curdled, 
congealed (with cold). 



Daint, x, 2, dainty, delicate. 

Dalliaunce, ii, 14, trifling, light 
talk. 

Dame, xii, 20, wife. 

Damnify, xi, 52, injure. 

Darrayne, iv, 40; vii, 11, pre- 
pare (for battle). 

Deare, vii, 48, hurt, injury. 



284 



GLOSSARY 



Deaw-burning, xi, 35, bright 
with dew. 

Debonaire, ii, 23, gracious, cour- 
teous. 

Defeasaunce, xii, 12, defeat. 

Defray, v, 42, appease. 

Deitye, iii, 21, immortality. 

Berth, ii, 27, dearness, high 
value. 

Deryn'd, iii, 2, diverted, drawn 
away. 

Despight, ii, 0, resentment ; iv, 
35, 41, etc., malice, spite, con- 
tempt ; vii, 49 ; xi, 17, injury. 

Despoile, x, 17, strip. 

Devise, xii, 17, plan. 

Diamond, ix, 19, adamant, steel. 

Dight, vii, 8 ; iv, 14, etc., ar- 
range, dress, adorn. 

Disaventrous, vii, 48, ix, 11, 
unfortunate. 

Discipline, vi, 31, teaching. 

Discolourd, vii, 32, variegated. 

Discourse, xii, 14, description ; 
xii, 15, to narrate. 

Disease, xi, 38, render uneasy. 

Dishonesty, ii, 23, unchastity. 

Dispence, iii, 30, pay for. 

Dispiteous, ii, 15, cruel. 

Disple, X, 27, discipline. 

Disseized, xi, 20, dispossessed. 

Dissolute, vii, 51, weak, un- 
strung. 



Distayned, xi, 23, defiled. 

Dites, viii, 18, raises (a club). 

Diverse, i, 44, distracting. 

Divide, v, 17, play (variations). 

Documents, x, 19, doctrines. 

Donne, x, 33, to do. 

Doom, ix, 38, judgment. 

Doted, viii, 34, foolish. 

Doubt, vi, 1, fear. 

Doughty, xi, 52 ; xii, 6, strong, 
brave. 

Dragonets, xii, 10, little dragons. 

Dreed, or dred. Int. 4, vi, 2 ; ob- 
ject of reverence. 

Drere, viii, 40, sorrow. 

Drery, v, 30, gloomy ; vi, 45, 
dripping with blood. 

Dreriment, ii, 44 ; xi, 32, sor- 
row, gloom. 

Drest, ix, 54, prepared, ar- 
ranged. 

Drift, viii, 22, impetus. 

Droome, ix. 41, drum. 

Drousy-hed, ii, 7, drowsiness. 

Dry-dropsie, iv, 23 (meaning 
doubtful). (1) Dropsy caus- 
ing thirst (Warton). (2) A 
misprint for dire dropsie (Up- 
ton). (3) A misprint for hy- 
dropsie (Collier). 

Dye, ii, 36, chance, fortune (lit. 
a small cube used for gam- 
ing). 



GLOSSARY 



285 



Earne, i, 3 ; vi, 25 ; ix, 18, yearn, 
long for. 

Edifyde, i, 34, built. 

Eeke, v, 42, increase. 

Eft, ix, 25, again. 

Eftsoones, x, 24, etc., forthwith. 

Eke, iii, 21, also. 

Eld, X, 8, old age. 

Embalme, v, 17, anoint, pour 
balm into. 

Embaye, ix, 13 ; x, 27, bathe. 

Embost, iii, 24, encased ; ix, 20, 
fatigued. 

Embosse, xi, 20, plunge. 

Embowed, ix, 19, rounded. 

Emboyled, xi, 28, agitated, trou- 
bled. 

Embrew, xi, 36, imbrue, drench. 

Empassioned, iii, 2, moved to 
pity. 

Empeach, viii, 34, hinder. 

Emperse, xi, 53, pierce. 

Emprize, ix, 1, undertaking, ad- 
venture. 

Enchace, xii, 23, set off in fitting 
terms. 

Endew, iv, 51, endow. 

Enfouldred, xi, 40, shot forth 
(like a thunderbolt) . 

Engrave, x, 42, bury, entomb. 

Enhaunst, i, 17 ; v, 47, raised. 



Enlargen, viii, 37, deliver. 

Ensample, ix, 12, witness. 

Ensue, iv, 34, pursue ; ix, 44, 
persecute. 

Entirely, xi, 32, with all the 
heart. 

Entraile, i, 10, fold, twist. 

Envie, ill will., hatred. 

Equall, vi, 26, side by side. 

Errant, iv, 38 ; x, 10, wander- 
ing (in quest of adventure). 

Esloyne, iv, 20, retire. 

Essoyne, iv, 20, excuse, exemp- 
tion. 

Eugh, i, 9, yew^ 

Ewghen, xi, 19, made of yew. 

Excheat, v, 25, gain ; lit. prop- 
erty forfeited to the lord of a 
fief. 

Extirpe, x, 25, uproot. 

Eyas, xi, 34, young untrained 
hawk, unfledged falcon. 

Eyne, eien, eyen, ii, 27, etc., eyes. 



Fact, iv, 34 ; ix,37, feat, evil deed. 
Fall, ix, 2, befall. 
Fare, i, 11, etc., go, travel. 
Fatal, ix, 7, ordained by fate. 
Fattie, i, 21, fertilizing. 
Fayne, iv, 10, gladly ; vi, 12, glad. 
Faytor, iv, 47 ; xii, 35, deceiver, 
villain, sham. 



286 



GLOSSARY 



Fearefull, i, 13, alarmed. 

Feature, viii, 49, form. 

Fee, X, 43, payment. 

Felly, V, 34, fiercely. 

Fere, x, 4, husband ; lit. com- 
panion. 

Fillet, iii, 4, snood. 

Fit, ii, 18, death agony ; iv, 34, 
struggle, passion ; xi, 7, musical 
strain. 

Flaggy, xi, 10, yielding, hanging 
loose. 

Flit, iv, 5, crumble away. 

Foile, iv, 4, leaf of metal. 

Foltring, vii, 24, stammering. 

Fond, ix, 30, foolish. 

Fone, ii, 23, foes. 

Food, viii, 1), feud. 

Foolhappie, vi, 1, happy as a 
fool, "fortunate rather than 
provident" (Nares). 

Fordonne, v, 41 ; etc., undone, 
rained, wounded to death. 

Fore by, vi, 39, etc., near. 

Fore spent, ix, 43, wasted, squan- 
dered. 

Foretaught, vii, 18, either (1) 
untaught, mistaught, or (2) 
taught before, hence, perhaps, 
despised (Warren). 

Forlore, viii, 29 ; x, 21, forlorn, 
forsaken. 

Forray, xii, 3, ravage, prey upon. 



Forsake, xi, 24, avoid, 

Forwandring, vi, 34, weary with 
wandering, or utterly astray. 

Forwarned, ii, 18, warded off, 

Forwasted, i, 5 ; xi, 1, ravaged, 
utterly wasted, 

Forwearied, i, 32, etc., utterly 
weary, 

Forworne, vi, 35, much worn, 

Fraight, xii, 35, fraught, 
freighted. 

Frame, viii, 30, support, steady. 

Francklin, x, 6, freeman, free- 
holder. 

Fray, i, 38, etc., to frighten ; ii, 
14, an affray. 

Freak, iii, 1 ; iv, 50, whim, ca- 
price. 

Frounce, iv, 14, curl, plait, friz 
(the hair), 

Fruitfull-headed, viii, 20, many- 
headed. 

Fry, xii, 7, crowd, swarm. 

Funerall, ii, 20, death. 

Fyne, iv, 21, thin ; v, 28, fine. 

G 

Gage, xi, 41, pledge, the thing 

contended for. 
Game, xii, 8, sport. 
Gan, ii, 2, etc., began, often used 

as auxiliary verb, "did." 
Gate, i, 13, way ; viii, 12, manner. 



GLOSS A BY 



287 



Geaunt, vii, 12, giant. 

Gent, ix, 6, 27, gentle, gracious, 

fair. 
German, v, 10, 13, brother. 
Gest, X, 15, adventure, exploit. 
Ghost, ii, 1!), spirit. 
Gin, V, 35, engine, instrument 

(of torture). 
Gins, see gan. 
Girlond, ii, 30, garland. 
Giust, i, 1, tilt, joust. 
Glitterand, iv, IG ; vii, 29, 

glittering. 
Gnarre, v, 34, gnarl, snarl, growl. 
Gobbet, i, 20 ; xi, 13, lump, piece. 
Gorge, i, 19, etc., throat. 
Gossip, xii, 11, neighbor, crony. 
Government, ix, 10, self-control. 
Graile, vii, 6, gravel. 
Graine, vii, 1, dye, fast color. 
Gree, v, 1(3, favor, good will, 

satisfaction. 
Greedy, viii, 29, eager. 
Gren, vi, 11, grin. 
Griesie, ix, 35, horrible. 
Griesly, ix, 21, grisly, hideous. 
Griple, iv, 31, greedy, grasping. 
Groome, servant. 
Grosse, xi, 20, fast, heavy. 
Grudging, ii, 19, groaning. 
Gryfon, v, 8, griffin (a fabulous 

animal half lion, half eagle). 
Guerdon, iii, 40, reward. 



Guise, guize, vi, 25 ; xii, 14, 
mode (of life). 



Hable, xi, 19, able, skillful. 

Hagard, xi, 19, wild, untrained. 

Hanging, ii, 16, doubtful. 

Hardiment, ix, 2 ; i, 14 ; bold- 
ness. 

Harrow, x, 40, despoil. 

Haught, vi, 29, haughty. 

Heare, v, 23, pass for being so 
unlucky, in such evil case 
(Kitchin). 

Heast, vii, 18, command. 

Heben, Int. 3, vii, 37, of ebony 
wood. 

Heft, xi, 39, raised on high. 

Henge, xi, 21, orbit ; lit, hinge. 

Hew, i, 46, etc., form, counte- 
nance ; iii, 11, color. 

Hight, ix, 14 ; x, 55, etc., called, 
was called ; iv, 6, intrusted. 

Hond, out of, xii, 3, at once. 

Horrid, vi, 25; vii, 31, rough, 
bristling. 

Hot, xi, 29, was called ; see 
hight. 

Housling, xii, 37, sacramental. 

Hove, ii, 31, rose, stood on end. 

Humour, i, 36, moisture. 

Hurtle, iv, 16, 40 ; viii, 17, rush, 
clash together. 



288 



GLOSSARY 



Hurtlesse, vi, 31, harmless, 

gentle. 
Husher, iv, 13, usher. 



Imbrew, vii, 47, imbrue, drench. 

liiipe. Int. 3 ; ix, 6, etc., child, 
scion. 

Impeach, viii, 34, hinder. 

Imperceable, xi, 17, that cannot 
be pierced. 

Imply, vi, 6 ; xi, 23, infold. 

Importune, xi, 53, violent. 

Improvided, xii, 34, unforeseen. 

In, i, 33, inn, lodging. 

Incontinent, ix, 19, at once. 

Infected, x, 25, ingrained. 

Infest, xi, 6, make fierce or 
hostile. 

Influence, viii, 42, power of the 
stars. 

Intended, xi, 38, armed, stretched 
out. 

Intendiment, xii, 31, attention. 

Intent, i, 43 ; ix, 27, aim, pur- 
pose. 

Invent, vi, 15, discover. 



Jealous, suspicious. 
Jolly, i, 1 ; ii, 11, fine, handsome. 
Jott, X, 26, speck, small piece. 
Journal!, xi, 31, daily. 



Joy, vi, 17, to be cheerful. 
Joyaunce, iv, 37, gladness, merri- 
ment. 



Keepe, i, 40, heed, care. 
Keeping, xi, 2, care, guard. 
Kend, xii, 1, known. 
Kest, xi, 31, cast. 
Kindly, iii, 28, etc., natural, ac- 
cording to nature. 
Kirtle, iv, 31, coat, tunic. 
Knee, ix, 34, projection (of rocks). 
Knife, vi, 38, sword. 



Lad, i, 4, led. 

Launch, iii, 42 ; iv. 46, pierce. 

Lay-stall, v, 53, rubbish heap, 
dunghill. 

Lazar, iv, 3, leper. 

Leach, v, 17, 44 ; x, 23, surgeon, 
physician. 

Learne, vi, 25, teach. 

Leasing, vi, 48, falsehood, lying. 

Leke, v, 35, leaky. 

Leman, i, 6 ; vii, 14, lover, sweet- 
heart, mistress. 

Let, viii, 13, hindrance. 

Lever, ix, 32, rather. 

Libbard, vi, 25, leopard. 

Liefe, iii, 28 ; ix, 17, dear one, 
darling. 



GLOSSARY 



289 



Lilled, V, 34, lolled. 

Lin, i, 24 ; v, 35, cease. 

List, ii, 22 ; vii, 35; x, 20; xi, 10, 

desired, pleased. 
Lively, ii, 24 ; vii, 20, living. 
Loft, i, 41, (doubtful) air, sky, 

or roof. 
Long, iv, 48, belong. 
Lore, i, 5, knowledge. 
Lome, iv, 2, lost. 
Loute, i, 30; x, 44, bow, stoop. 
Lowre, ii, 22, frown, darken. 
Lumpish, i, 43, dull, heavy. 
Lustlesse, iv, 20, feeble, listless. 
Lynd, xi, 10, lined. 

M 

Mace, iv, 44, club. 

Make, vii, 7, 15, mate, com- 
panion. 

Mall, vii, 51, wooden hammer, 
or club. 

Many, xii, 9, troop, crowd. 

Mart, Int. 3, mass. 

Mated, ix, 12, overcome, con- 
founded. 

Maw, i, 20, stomach. 

Maynly, vii, 12, violently. 

Mell, i, 30, meddle. 

Menage, vii, 37, manage. 

Ment, i, 5, joined, mingled. 

Mew, V, 20, prison, lit. cage for 
hawks. 



Mirksome, v, 28, dark, murky. 

Miscreant, v, 13, ix, 49, infidel, 
vile fellow. 

Misdeeming, ii, 3, misleading ; 
iv, 2, misjudging. 

Misfeigning, iii, 40, pretending 
wrongfully. 

Misformed, i, 55 ; viii, 16, ill 
formed, or formed for evil. 

Misseeming, ix, 23 ; viii, 42, un- 
seemly ; vii, 50, deceit. 

Mister, ix, 23, sort of, manner of. 

Misweening, iv, 1, wrong think- 
ing, wrong belief. 

Moe, mo, v, 50, etc., more. 

Mortality, x, 1, state of being 
mortal. 

Mortall, i, 15, deadly. 

Mote, iii, 29, etc., may, might. 

Mought, i, 42, might. 

Muchell, iv, 46 ; vi, 20, much, 
great. 

N 

Nathemore, viii, 13 ; ix, 25, none 

the more. 
Nephewes, v, 22, grandchildren, 

descendants. 
Ni'll, ix, 15, will not. 
Nosethrill, xi, 22, nostril. 
Note, xii, 17, know not. 
N'ould, vi, 17, would not. 
Noyance, i, 23, annoyance. 



290 



GLOSSARY 



Noye, X, 24 ; xi, 45, hurt, harm. 
Noyes, Noyce, vi, 8, noise. 
Noyous, V, 45 ; xi, 50, harmful, 
unpleasant. 



Offend, xii, 1, injure. 
Offspring, vi, 30, ancestors. 
Origane, ii, 40, wild marjoram. 
Ought, iv, 89, owned, possessed. 
Outrage, xi, 40, insult, abuse. 
Overcraw, ix, 50, insult, crow 

over. 
Oversight, vi, 1, wantof prudence. 
Owch, ii, 13 ; x, 31, jewel or 

socket in which a jewel was set. 



Paine, xii, 34, labor, treacherous 

skill ; ii, 39, effort ; iv, 15, 

take pains. 
Paire, vii, 41, impair, injure. 
Paled, V, 5, fenced off, inclosed 

with ?i pnle. 
Palfrey, i, 4 ; iii, 40, a lady's 

saddle horse, here Una's ass. 
Paramour, i, 9, lover (not in a 

bad sense). 
Parbreake, i, 20, vomit. 
Pardale, vi, 2G, leopard. 
Parted, iii, 22, departed. 
Pas, iv, 11, surpass ; xi, 15, step, 

pace. 



Passing, x, 24, surpassing. 

Passion, ii, 26, 32, deep feeling, 
lit. suffering. 

Passionate, xii, 16, express feel- 
ingly. 

Payne, vi, 21, pains, labor. 

Paynim, iv, 41 ; vi, 38 ; xi, 7, 
pagan, heathen. 

Peece, x, 59, something con- 
structed (Cleopolis). 

Penne, xi, 10, feather, quill. 

Perceable, i, 7, that can be 
pierced. 

Perdie, perdy, vi, 42, French par 
Dieu, a common oath. 

Pere, viii, 7; xii, 17, noble, prince. 

Persaunt, x, 47, piercing. 

Pight, ii, 42, etc., pitched, fixed, 
placed. 

Pine, ix, 35, wasting away ; viii, 
40, pined, wasted away through 
torment. 

Plate, vi, 43 ; vii, 2, solid armor, 
as distinguished from the coat 
of mail, or light chain armor. 

Pleasaunce, ii,-30, courtesies ; iv, 
38 ; vii, 4, delight, conversa- 
tional pleasure. 

Point, (1) ix, 41, appoint; (2) 
ii, 12, not a whit ; (3) i, 16 ; 
ii, 12, (armed) at all points. 

PoUicie, iv, 12, statecraft, cun- 
ning. 



GLOSS AliY 



291 



Portesse, iv, 19, breviary, small 

prayer-book. 
Posterne, v, 52, small private 

gate behind. 
Pouldred, vii, 12, powdered. 
Pounces, xi, 19, a hawk's claws. 
Poynant, vii, 19, sharp, piercing. 
Poyse, xi, 54, weight, force. 
Practicke, xii, 34, deceitful. 
Prancke, iv, 14, display gaudily. 
Praunce, vii, 11, strut proudly. 
Pray, ix, 30, ravage. 
Preace, iii, 3, crowd, throng. 
Presently, immediately. 
Price, ix, 37, pay the price of, 

atone for. 
Pricking, i, 1 ; iii, 33, riding, 

usually rapidly, i.e. spurring. 
Priefe, viii, 43, trial ; ix, 17, 

proof ; X, 24, proved excel- 
lence. 
Prime, ii, 40 ; etc., springtime. 
Privity, ix, 5, privacy. 
Prowesse, vii, 42, bravery. 
Prowest, iv, 41 ; v, 14, bravest. 
Puissance, i, 3, etc., power. 
Purchas, iii, 16, lit. acquisition, 

cant term for theft, or robbery 

(Nares). 
Purfled, ii, 13, embroidered on 

the edge. 
Purposes, ii, 30, conversation. 
Purveyance, xii, 13, provision. 



Quaile, ix, 49, subdue, overpower. 
Quayd, viii, 14, subdued. 
Quell, xi, 24, disconcert, daunt. 
Quight, viii, 10, repay. 
Quit, quitt, vi, 6 ; vi, 10, to free. 
Quite, viii, 20, 27 ; x, 37, repay, 

return. 
Quited, i, 30, return a salute. 
Quoth, i, 12, etc., said. 



Raft, i, 24, struck away (from 
reave) . 

Ragged, xii, 23, rough, rugged. 

Raile, vi, 43, flow. 

Ramping, iii, 6, etc., leaping, 
bounding, erect ; ramp, v, 28. 

Rapt, iv, 9, carried away. 

Rare, ii, 32, tliin-voiced. 

Raskall, vii, 35 ; xii, 9, vulgar, 
base. 

Raught, vi, 29, etc., reached. 

Ravine, v, 8, prey. 

Raw, X, 2, unpracticed, out of 
training. 

Read, i, 13; x, 17, advise. 

Reave, iii, 36 ; xi, 41, snatch 
away, rob. 

Recoyle, x, 17, retreat. 

Recreaunt, iv, 41, base, cow- 
ardly. 

Recure, v, 44, etc., refresh. 



292 



GLOSSARY 



Red, vii, 46, etc., declared. 

Redoubted, iv, 40, terrible. 

Redound, vi, 30 ; iii, 8, overflow. 

Redresse, v, 30, restore, revive, 
reunite. 

Reed, i, 21, notice, perceive. 

Reele, v, 35, roll. 

Reft, ix, 31 ; x, 65, snatched 
away. 

Refte, vi, 39 ; xii, 39, bereft. 

Renverst, iv, 41, turned upside 
down. 

Repaire, vi, 30, return home. 

Repining, ii, 17, failing (Per- 
cival), angry (Upton). 

Repriefe, ix, 29, reproof. 

Retrate, i, 13, retreat. 

Reverse, ix, 48, bring back. 

Revoke, vi, 28, call back. 

Ridde, i, 36, remove, dispatch. 

Rife, iv, 35 ; ix, 52, much, ex- 
ceedingly. 

Riotise, iv, 20, riot. 

Rode, xii, 42, anchorage, harbor. 

Rove, Int. 3, shoot (an arrow 
with an elevation, not point 
blank). 

Round, vi, 7, dance. 

Rowel,- vii, 37, ring of a bit. 

Ruffin, iv, 34, rough, disordered. 

Rusty, V, 32, rust-colored, blood- 
stained, filthy. 

Ruth, V, 9, pity, sorrow. 



S 



Sacred, viii, 35, accursed — of 
ashes used impiously to receive 
the blood of the slain (Upton). 

&ad, i, 2 ; V, 20 ; x, 7 ; xii, 5, 
grave, mournful ; iii, 10, firm, 
steady ; i, 36, heavy. 

Sallow, i, 9, a kind of willow. 

Salvage, iii, 5 ; vi, 11, etc., wild, 
woodland (adj.), 

Sam, X, 57, together, same. 

Say, iv, 31, serge cloth for cloaks 
(Halliwell), 

Scath, iv, 35 ; xii, 34, hurt, mis- 
chief. 

Scor'd, i, 2, carved. 

Scowre, ii, 20, run fast. 

Scryne, Int. 2, chest, or case for 
keeping books, etc. 

Sead, x, 51, seed, posterity. 

Sease, xi, 38, fasten ; seised, xii, 
17, gained, taken possession of. 

Seel, vii, 23, lit. sew up the 
eyes (of hawks), deprive of 
sight. 

Seely, silly, vi, 10 ; i, 30 ; ii, 21, 
simple, innocent. 

Seemly, ii, 30, polite. 

Seene, v, 16, proved, tested. 

Semblaunt, ii, 12, appearance. 

Sent, i, 43, perception, sense. 

Shadow, represent typically. 



GLOSSARY 



293 



Shamefast, x, 15, shy, modest. 
Shaume, xii, 13, a wiud musical 

instrument. 
Shend, i, 53, shame. 
Shew, iii, 10, sign, track. 
Shroud, i, 6 ; i, 8, shelter. 
Single, vi, 12, weak ; viii, 12, 

mere. 
Sith, vii, 22, etc., since ; sitheng, 

iv, 51. 
Sits, i, 30, becomes, suits. 
Slight, vii, 30, device ; viii, 23, 

skill. 
Snubbe, viii, 7, knob, snag. 
Solemnize, x, 4, rite, solemnizing. 
Sooth, iii, 29, truth. 
Souce, V, 8, beat. 
Soust, iii, 31, drenched. 
Sowne, i, 41, sound. 
Sperst, i, 39 ; iv, 48, dispersed. 
Spill, iii, 43, destroy. 
Stadle, vi, 14, staff. 
Stannaries, stannaries, tin mines 

or tin works. 
Starke, i, 44, stiff. 
Sted, stedd, viii, 17, etc., place. 
Sterne, i, 18 ; xi, 28, tail. 
Stew, xi, 44, warm place. 
Stole, i, 4, 45 ; xii, 22, long robe. 
Stound, vii, 12, stunned ; vii, 25 ; 

viii, 12, 25, 38, moment. 
Stowre, ii, 7, etc., distress, peril, 

battle. 



Stye, xi, 25, ascend, rise up. 
Subject, xi, 19, lying beneath. 
Sure, ix, 19, secure. 
Swarved, x, 14, swerved. 
Swelt, vii, 6, burned. 
Swinge, xi, 26, singe. 
Swowne, i, 41, heavy sleep; ix, 
52, swoon ; swound, v, 19. 



Table, ix, 49, picture. 

Tackles, xii, 42, rigging. 

Talaunts, xi, 41, talons. 

Teade, xii, 37, torch. 

Teene, ix, 34 ; xii, 18, grief, 
trouble, hurt. 

Then, x, 10, than. 

Thewes, ix, 3 ; x, 4, manners. 

Tho, i, 18, etc., then. 

Thorough, i, 32 ; x, 1, through. 

Thrall, ii, 22 ; vii, 44 ; viii, 1, 
subject ; v, 45, 51 ; viii, 32, 
37, prisoner ; vi, 6, one in dis- 
tress. 

Three-square, vi, 41, triangular. 

Thrill, iii, 42; x, 19; xi, 20, 
pierce. 

Thrist, vi, 38, thirst. 

Throw, X, 41, throe, pang. 

Tide, ii, 29, time (duration). 

Timely, i, 21 ; iv, 4, keeping 
time. 

Tire, iv, 35, train, rank, com- 



2<J4 



GLOSS ABY 



pany ; viii, 46 ; x, 31, head- 
dress, attire. 
Told, iv, 27, counted. 
Tort, xii, 4, wrong. 
Touch, iii, 2, touchstone. 
Toy, vi, 28, sport. 
Trace, viii, 31, walk. 
Trains, trayne, i, 18 ; viii, 17 ; 

xi, 37, tail ; iii, 24 ; vi, 3, etc., 

deceit, wiles. 
Transmew, vii, 35, transmute. 
Treachour, iv, 41 ; ix, 32, traitor. 
Treen, ii, 39; vii, 26, tree-like, 

of trees. 
Trenchand, i, 17 ; xi, 24, sharp, 

trenchant. 
Trinall, xii, 39, threefold. 
Truncked, viii, 10, truncated, 

with the limbs cut off. 
Trusse, xi, 19, to secure a firm 

hold on. 
Turnament, v, 1, tournament, 

combat of knights in the lists. 
Tway, vii, 27, two, twain. 
Twyfold, v, 28, twofold. 
Twyne, vi, 14, twist. 
Tyne, ix, 15, anxiety, pain. 

U 

Unacquainted, v, 21, unaccus- 
tomed. 
Unbid, ix, 54, unprayed for. 
Uncouth, i, 15 ; xi, 20, strange. 



Undight, iii, 4, unfastened. 

Uneath, ix, 38, etc., with diffi- 
culty. 

Unkindly, i, 26, unnatural. 

Unlich, V, 28, unlike. 

Untill, xi, 41, unto. 

Unty, xi, 41, loosen. 

Unwary, xii, 25, unexpected. 

Unw^eeting, ii, 45, etc., unaware, 
not knowing. 



Venery, vi, 22, hunting. 

Vere, xii, 1, veer, change the 

direction of. 
Vew, vi, 25, aspect, appearance. 
Vild, ix, 46, vile. 
Vine-prop, i, 8, supporting the 

vine. 
Visour, vii, 1, visor, the part of 

the helmet which protected the 

eyes. 

W 

Wade, i, 12, walk, go, pass. 

Wage, iv, 39, reward, pledge. 

Wanton, ii, 13, 14, wild, unre- 
strained. 

Ware, vii, 1, wary. 

Warray, v, 48, wage war against. 

Wastfull, i, 32, etc., barren, wild. 

Wastnes, iii, 3, desert, wilder- 
ness. 



GLOSSARY 



295 



Wax, iv, 34, grow. 

Wayne, iv, 9, chariot. 

Wayting, x, 36, watching. 

Weare, i, 31, spend, pass. 

Weedes, Int. 1 ; ii, 21, clothes ; 
X, 28, armor. 

Weene, i, 10 ; iii, 41, intend ; x, 
58, tliink. 

Weet,iii,0, 11, to know; to weete, 
iii, 17, etc., to wit. 

Welke, i, 23, fade, grow dim. 

Welkin, iv, 9, sky. 

Well, ii, 43, well-being, health ; 
i, 26, etc., quite, very ; vii, 4, 
bubble up, 

Wex, xi, 1, grow ; woxen, iv, 34. 

Whally, iv, 34, streaked (War- 
ren). 

Whenas, ii, 32, etc., as soon as. 

Whereas, vi, 40, where. 

Whot, X, 26, hot. 

Whyleare, ix, 28, erewhile. 

Whylome, iv, 15, etc., formerly. 

Wight, ix, 23, 32, person, creature. 

Wimple, xii, 22, veil, lit. covering 
for the neck; wimpled, i, 4, 
folded, provided with a wimple. 

Wist, V, 27, knew. 

Wonne, vi, 39, fought ; wonne, 
vi, 39, dwell. 

Wood, iv, 34 ; v, 20, mad, furious. 



Worshippe, i, 3, honor, respect. 

Wot, i, 13 ; wote, ii, 18 ; ix, 31, 
know. 

Woxen, see wax. 

Wreakes, viii, 43 ; xii, 16, anger, 
acts of vengeance. 

Wreck, xi, 21, destruction, mis- 
chief. 

Wrizled, viii, 47, wrinkled (War- 
ren). 

Wyde, i, 34, distant. 



Yborne, vii, 10, born. 

Ycladd, i, 1 ; yclad, i, 7, 29 ; ii, 

2 ; ycled, iv, 38, clad. 
Ydle, V, 8, airy, purposeless. 
Ydrad, i, 2, dreaded. 
Yede, xi, 5, go. 
Yfere, ix, 1, together. 
Ygoe, ii, 18, ago. 
Ylike, iv, 27, alike. 
Ymp, see impe. 
Yod, see yede. 
Younglings, x, 57, young of any 

animal. 
Youthly, vi, 34, youthful. 
Ypight, ix, 33, pitched, placed. 
Yrkesome, ii, 6, weary ; iii, 4, 

painful. 
Yts, vii, 39, it is. 



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